


The Rest of Our Lives Together

by the_sinnamon_roll_writes



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: And titles, Confessions, Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Cuddling, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Ending, I was weak, I'm bad at tagging y'all, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Married Life, Sleeping Together, Slice of Life, Wing Grooming, Wings, chapter 4 is smutty, conversations about god and shit, couple stuff, crowleys a bit on the dumb side but that's okay he gets there, every other chapter should be rated G though!, idk when the last time I wrote something this fluffy was, just a bunch of happy shit happening, just skip over that if you're not into it, non-sexual subspace, not beta-ed cause got no beta person, okay so I lied when I tagged this as no smut before, space travel, thats it lads, titles are probably my least favorite part of writing tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2020-06-30 08:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19849345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sinnamon_roll_writes/pseuds/the_sinnamon_roll_writes
Summary: A sort of slice of life thing for Aziraphale and Crowley after the apocalypse that didn't happen and the trials. All kinds of sweetness and love. There is like, zero angst in here, which is super weird for me. Like, the angsty-ist this gets is some self-esteem issues w/ Crowley later on, because I love writing insecurities/reassurances. Might end up having to update the tags later, depending how far off the deep end I go.I think this one pulls mostly from the series, but in some future fics, I'm probably gonna be including stuff from the book as well. First work for this fandom!





	1. Stay With You (If That's Okay)

“So what now?” Aziraphale was climbing off the bus behind Crowley, having spent the majority of the ride home sitting in a rather mutually contemplative silence. It had been a very long day for them both, and arriving at their destination had been a rather anticlimactic ending. It had only been a few days since they had stopped the apocalypse ( _‘because really, we did have an awfully large roll in stopping it, it’s such a shame that no one appreciated it,’_ Aziraphale thought), and now in addition to dodging that bullet, they had actually just tricked the forces of Heaven and Hell into thinking that they were two creatures that transcended celestial and infernal laws. And now they were standing outside of Crowley’s flat, having been dropped off there despite the total lack of a bus stop anywhere in sight, without a single clue as to where to go from here. 

“I don’t know,” Crowley confessed honestly as they made their way inside and up to his living space. “What can we do? I think we should avoid bringing attention to ourselves. I know, they said they’d leave us alone, but I don’t think it’d be a good idea to push that. I know that there are still some demons out there that would love to get their claws in me.”

“Do you think we should go undercover? Just, pack up and disappear? Use code names?” Aziraphale hadn’t actually listened to Crowley beyond ‘avoid bringing attention.’ The realization that they had actually managed to fool their superiors was washing over him- there would be no more surprise visits, no more tip-toeing around, no more faking reports. No more denying how he felt. That thought sent Aziraphale’s heart racing with excitement. Even though they had both just collapsed on Crowley’s couch, he was having a very hard time not jumping up and celebrating. 

Crowley couldn’t remember ever seeing Aziraphale so excited. Sure, he was always pleasant, kind, and awfully easy to hang around. But right now, he was positively- and quite literally- glowing. “I don’t think we need to go to those lengths, angel. We should just lay low for a while.”

“Angel! You can call me Angel! That’ll be my code name. Now we need to think of one for you.”

“What? I call you ‘angel’ all the time, how is that a-”

“You can be Crow!”

“Oh, please don’t,” Crowley groaned. “Don’t do this. ‘Crow’ is a _terrible_ code name! No one ever calls someone ‘Crow’, it would be totally obvious it was me you’re talking to. Come on, we don’t need to fly this low, we just need to... I don’t know, try and avoid doing anything _too_ miraculous.”

It seemed that Aziraphale was beyond reason at this point. Apparently rebelling (if that’s what protecting the Earth was) brought out a side of him that was altogether foreign. All his nervous energy had disappeared, very quickly replaced by excitement and something else that Crowley couldn’t quite recognize. He was hesitant to admit it, but whatever it was, Crowley liked it. Fearlessness? Perhaps that was it. Of what exactly he feared before was a mystery- had Armageddon really frightened Aziraphale ( _‘Angel,’_ his mind offered frustratingly, because bless it, he really did like calling him that) so much that he’d let it worry him for the entire six thousand years they’d known each other? A part of Crowley suddenly grew anxious himself. If his angel ( _his_ angel, already?) grew too fearless, then it was possible that maybe he, Crowley, would have to step up and be the level-headed one for a change. And that sure as fuck didn’t bode well. 

“So, whats got you all worked up like this? It’s not really like you to be so-” Crowley gestured vaguely towards Aziraphale “-this. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t like it, I’m just wondering what exactly it is that made you so hesitant before all this happened.”

Aziraphale stared at Crowley with his mouth slightly agape, like he’d just asked the stupidest question in the world. “Why, it’s like you said, we’re on the same side now, Crowley. We don’t need to sneak around anymore. No more trying to pull one over on our bosses just to have an afternoon together. We could spend all day with each other, and nights too. We could move in together, and neither Heaven or Hell will do a thing about it after the performances we gave them!”

He stopped talking when he saw the alarming shade of red that Crowley was turning. The last time he’d seen this much color on the demon’s face had been nearly three decades ago when Crowley had returned from a trip to some desert in the United States with tomato-red skin and a rather cross attitude regarding the sun.

“I-is that something you wanted to do?” Crowley stammered. “Any of it?”

 _‘Could he really be this dense?’_ How someone who had managed to survive millennia, deceive leagues of demons in hell, and prevent the damned apocalypse could be so oblivious was well beyond Aziraphale. “Of course it is. Come, aren’t you tired of the same old song and dance? Of going to extreme lengths to see one another? I, for one, am extremely relieved to put all that behind us. Aren’t you?”

The disbelief on Crowley’s face was something Aziraphale was only used to seeing when he was acting particularly naive. But the way the demon was stuttering was more like he was completely thrown off by the course of the conversation altogether. Like he hadn’t expected Aziraphale to want that. 

“Of course! B-but what about what you said- and the whole not running away- a-and-“

“Darling,” the angel cut in, taking pity on the poor soul and reaching out to take his hand. “I do apologize for what I said before. It wasn’t true. I didn’t mean it, and I shouldn’t have said it. I still had faith in my fellow angels at the time, and had hoped that they would do the right thing. I’ll go with you now though, if you’ll have me. Anywhere. I’d even go to Alpha Centauri for you.”

One of Crowley’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. “After all we’ve just done to save Earth, I’m not living anywhere else anytime soon. I fought for this planet, I’m going to bloody well stay here. But staying with you... sounds, er... nice.”

“Don’t get too enthusiastic, Crowley. You don’t have to,” Aziraphale said, looking slightly hurt. “It was just a thought. We’ve known each other so long now, the idea of living together just seems natural.”

“No, I agree! I just hadn’t been expecting you to- I mean, I was actually going to suggest something similar. Again, I suppose.”

“Good!” Aziraphale said, all hurt disappearing in an instant and turning into a dazzlingly bright smile that left Crowley feeling rather short of breath. “We should start looking for a house!”

Hearing the words ‘we’ ‘looking’ and ‘house’ used in context sent Crowley’s head spinning; he’d never actually thought they would reach this point, and certainly not after just one semi-serious talk about it. But as Aziraphale had said, they had known each other for thousands of years now. They no longer had any reason to dance around anymore. Suddenly the almost overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around the angel in front of him and pull him into a kiss came over him.

Somehow, he managed to reign it in and just offered up a lopsided grin. It might’ve just been his imagination, but it looked like a flicker of disappointment flashed across Aziraphale’s face. Had he been hoping for something else? Something more? Normally he had no problem reading people, and normally the angel wasn’t an exception. But he wasn’t exactly a person in the technical sense, and from time to time, Crowley still had a bit of a difficult time figuring out just what he was thinking. Aziraphale did love to surprise him with his decisions. Like right now, when he scooted forward to sit almost on Crowley’s lap, managing to draw a bit of anxious sweat from the demon’s brow. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured softly, forcing him to crane his neck just to hear. If the angel was nervous, he did a good job hiding it. “Tell me the truth, please. Do you want to be with me?”

“Absolutely! Didn’t we just-“

“You know what I mean!”

Crowley shut up quickly, yellow eyes widening and jaw gaping comically. Aziraphale could practically hear his brain short-circuiting, and the moment when his mind finally settled on a response was marked by a flash of determination and knee-shaking anxiety. It almost looked like he was holding his breath when he leaned forward to press his lips against the angel’s. 

_His_ angel. 

There weren’t sparks, exactly. They didn’t really need- or want- excitement right now. Instead, it was sweet and comforting, and so very natural, like returning home after years away and finding that it still was _home_. It felt warm and tender, and so fantastically _real_ to lower his arms down around Aziraphale’s shoulders, and feel hands coming around his waist to rest on the small of his back. Even if neither of them particularly cared to think that they were created for a purpose anymore, they fit together like they were made specifically for one another. Although they had both kissed others before- and even slept with a few- the tenderness being exchanged in the kiss was unlike anything either of them had ever experienced in their long, long existences. It wasn’t just a display of affection. 

It was a beginning, the start of their new lives and the exploration that came along with it. 

It was a promise. A promise to stay together, to support each other. 

“Aziraphale...” Crowley breathed, his lips still brushing against his angel’s.

“This really has been a long time coming, hasn’t it?”

Crowley couldn’t help but laugh at that, finally pulling away from Aziraphale’s face to look down. Much to his embarrassment, he found that he was suddenly on the verge of tears. It would take him many months to admit it out loud, but this was something that he’d wanted to do- dreamed of doing, really, for thousands of years now. However, he’d convinced himself long ago that it wouldn’t happen. Aziraphale would get his happy ending, of course, as the ‘good guy’. But Crowley was a demon. When was the last time a demon got a happy ending in the stories? It just wasn’t something that happened. 

Unless the demon was the good guy’s happy ending. 

As though reading Crowley’s mind, Aziraphale carefully cupped his demon’s face and angled his face back up. “Oh dear,” he sighed fondly, placing soft kisses across Crowley’s cheeks. “I love you. You clever, devilish, ridiculous little serpent. I love you more than words can say.”

And that pushed him over the edge. A happy cry burst out from his chest and Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s shirt and pulled the angel towards him. Once again, their lips met as they fell backwards to lie down on the couch. It took a bit of wiggling, but they managed to find a comfortable position, with Aziraphale wedged, halfway on top of Crowley, between him and the back of the couch. Aziraphale’s weight was a welcome comfort, a constant in the world that was always changing. 

“You know," Aziraphale said after a few minutes of comfortable silence, "Tadfield was a lovely little town.”

“Yeah,” Crowley mumbled in response. “Lovely.”

“I’m sure I could find a shop down there to house my books if I really looked. It’s a bit of a change of pace, compared to London. It’s always so busy here.”

“Yeah. Busy.”

“And we’d be so close to those lovely little humans who helped us avoid all that nastiness.”

“Yeah. Lovely little humans.”

“Perhaps once we lived there I could start walking around in the nude and only speak in dirty limericks.”

“Yeah. Nude- nude?”

Aziraphale laughed and caught one of Crowley’s hands, pulling it up to place a kiss on the knuckles. “You weren’t listening to a word I just said, were you?” His fond tone told Crowley that he was more amused than upset. 

“Didn’t really mean to. ‘M just wiped, angel. Been a long day.”

“Poor dear,” Aziraphale said, rolling off of him and pulling him up so they were both standing once again. “Why don’t you go to bed and get some rest? I’ll be right out here if you need me.”

“Actually-” Crowley hesitated before huffing a quick breath like he was pepping himself up. “Would you come with me? At least until I fall asleep? I think it would be easier if... well, if you were there.”

The smile on the angel’s face was so sweet it almost made Crowley gag. It probably _would’ve_ if it had been directed at someone other than himself. But as it was, that smile was all his, and Crowley was beyond happy with that. Unable to help himself, Crowley carefully took Aziraphale’s face in his hands and placed another tender kiss to his lips, one that the angel returned eagerly. This one was even less urgent than the first, slow and calm, filled with emotions that neither of them quite had the words to express just yet. They would get there, in time. For now they were happy like they were, pressed close together and doing their best to start to make up for the years- all six thousand of them- that they had wasted. 

This was love. Sweet, passionate, gentle caring that had been kept hidden away and neglected for far too long, tucked under wraps for fear of what would happen when it was revealed. Love that was unafraid and ready to be put on display for the whole world to witness.


	2. The Juniors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has a soft spot for snakes, and when he finds a pair in a closing pet shop, he just can't help himself. 
> 
> This chapter is based off of this text post: https://inbarfink.tumblr.com/post/186409233402/crowley-went-by-a-pet-shop-and-saw-a-snake-for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wanted a pet snake, but no one around me wants a pet snake, so all of this is based off a very little bit of internet research. If you're looking for advice on how to care for a pet snake, I would recommend turning to someone that is not me.  
> EDIT: It has been brought to my attention that king snakes eat other snakes! For the sake of fiction, snakes stick to mice in this story. But please, don’t do what I did in this fic and put your king snakes with your other snakes.

Crowley wasn’t a huge fan of pet stores. It wasn’t that he disliked pets- he knew that the idea of keeping animal companions went way back, and had found the idea rather novel when it first came about. And he had no issue with rescue shelters for animals. But after a particularly humbling incident in the early 1950s when the first pet shops were opening, he had a hard time stomaching them. 

(He’d gotten caught sleeping in his snake form after a very delicate assignment took a lot out of him and was stuck in a cage for nearly three months before someone purchased him and gave him an opportunity to escape. He completely confounded the owners of the store when he refused to eat any of the mice given to him. It was a whole ordeal that Aziraphale refused to let him live down.) 

So he made a habit of avoiding them whenever he could. 

Until the day came when he happened to walk by one with a large sign in the window announcing that it was closing. With photos of the animals still waiting to be sold. 

Among those photos was one of a row of snake habitats, each one housing its own snake. All but two of the terrariums had been X-ed over, and Crowley could only hope that meant that the inhabitants had been sold. There were, however, still two tanks that weren’t crossed out that caught his eye like a magnet, and before he could stop himself, he was in the store standing in front of the reptiles. The only snakes left were a juvenile Mexican black kingsnake and a young adult Keys corn snake. 

The poor critters looked so _miserable,_ stuck in their little cages, it wasn’t like he could just leave them there to suffer. He always felt like he had an obligation to snakes- cursed to crawl on their bellies and whatnot all because of him. Although frankly, part of Crowley enjoyed being in his snake form. It was simpler than being human-shaped with all those pesky limbs. If he weren’t afraid of getting stuck, he probably would’ve spent more time as one. That was beside the point. These snakes were being kept in too-small containers, used for profit, faced being carted off to some human who didn’t know the first thing about them, living out the rest of their days trapped-

That was the day Crowley arrived home with a couple of large glass cages, some bedding, a few fake rocks and logs, heat lamps, and the last two snakes in the shop. 

“Right you two, listen up. Kingsnake, your name is... Crawly. Corn snake, you’re- er- Tonya. Yeah, that works,” Crowley muttered, nodding. “I really... shouldn’t have gotten you. Probably. But don’t worry, I don’t plan on giving you back. You’re in good hands with me. I know a thing or two about snakes. Like- shit, like the fact that you need food. I forgot to get you food while I was there. Shit shit shit, I can’t remember when the girl said you last ate... okay, I’m gonna leave you guys here for a minute and get a few more things for you. When I get back, I’ll get your terrariums set up, but for now you’re just going to have to be bored.”

Of course, the snakes had no answer. 

He hadn’t really expected one. 

Feeling just the slightest bit guilty at not putting anything else in their terrariums with them, Crowley unloaded the snakes into their glass containers, each with a bit of water and set up the plugged-in heat lamps above them. He only paused once before leaving his flat to turn his thermostat up a little higher than normal. Hopefully that would be enough to keep them comfortable for a short period while he ran back to the store to grab the last few necessities. “Kay. Be back in ten minutes.”

•••

It ended up taking a little more than thirty minutes before he finally made it back. The pet store had a rush of customers, one or two of the nightmare variety that left everyone in the vicinity groaning internally. Crowley would freely admit to having a hand in one or two unfortunate incidents the truly annoying ones experienced, including one person who got caught walking out with a bag full of unpaid for merchandise that had mysteriously appeared there, and another who’s coupons had all happened to expire just yesterday. 

Granted, the tricks kept him in the store longer than he would’ve liked, but he felt it was worth it to watch the obnoxious ones get a taste of humble pie. Plus he managed to indirectly irritate several other people waiting around- had he still been on Hell’s payroll, he likely would’ve included this in his report. As it was, his only excuse was that his demonic nature needed to come out and have a little fun, just for shits and giggles. 

But he arrived home eventually with a sack full of dead mice and the knowledge that the snakes had last been fed three days ago. 

He also arrived to find both terrariums empty and a pleading voice coming from his bathroom. Immediately on red alert, Crowley crept as quietly as he could toward the voice. He wasn’t really sure what he would do with the intruder- all he had was his own hands and feet, and he never had been much of a fighter. It he got the jump on the trespasser though... his heart raced as he reached the bathroom and found the door wide open. 

The demon blinked and cocked his head when he saw Aziraphale crouched on the floor, stroking Crawly’s head. 

“Crowley dear, are you alright? Why does your form look like this? You’re so small, was that on purpose? Crowley? Did I do something wrong? Please talk to me!”

“Angel?”

Aziraphale beamed down at the snake in his hands, and Crowley snorted. “Oh thank goodness! Why are you a snake?”

“Look behind you, love.”

Frowning, Aziraphale glanced back at Crowley, back again at the snake’s head he was cradling, back at Crowley, then finally back at the snake once more. The moment when he realized that this was an actual snake was laughably clear when he yelped and jerked his hands away. “What? Why is there a snake in here?!”

“Because I bought a snake and brought him home. That’s actually why I was gone, I needed to pick up a few more things for them. What’s up?”

“Oh right! Well,” Aziraphale said with a slightly bemused smile, “I had come to show you a little house I’d found in the South Downs, right outside of Tadfield. But then I made the acquaintance of your... pet? How long have you had it?”

“A few hours now. I was just picking up the last few necessities for them. I’ve got a couple huge terrariums in the back of the flat. Although,” he added thoughtfully, “maybe it would be best to wait with getting those all set up. If we decide we like the house you found, there wouldn’t be much point in doing all that work for just a short while, right? The plant room is nice and humid, they would be just fine out of cages for a few days.”

“Ah- right, I suppose it would make sense to skip the bother. It’s not as though you couldn’t just miracle them ready though.”

“Well, yeah, but... again, I’d need to pack it back up when we move.”

“Weren’t you going to have to do that anyway?” Aziraphale asked with a frown. 

“Of course! That was before I knew you had a place in mind. Seems silly to go through all that trouble only to have to undo it in a few days, doesn’t it?”

One of Aziraphale’s eyebrows was reaching for his hairline, but he shrugged. All the same, Crowley felt the silent judgement in his gaze. Rolling his eyes, the demon snapped once and the two large terrariums situated themselves neatly next to each other on the far side of the room. Both were fully outfitted for their residents; the only thing missing inside were the actual snakes. 

“Happy?”

“I suppose. Are you going to- um- put it away?” Aziraphale asked somewhat tentatively, eyeing the snake in the ground at his feet. “Let it explore its new home a bit?”

Crowley stopped and squinted at the angel suspiciously. “Hang on. You’re not _scared_ of him, are you?”

“What? Of course not! Why on Earth would I be scared of a little snake?” Aziraphale cursed internally at the way his voice shrilled a bit at the denial. He wasn't _scared_ , he was just _surprised._

“So you wouldn’t mind if I let him stay out a bit longer?” Crowley challenged. “You know they need regular handling right? A neglected snake is not a happy one.”

“Oh, very well. I suppose I’d like at least _one_ friendly snake.” Aziraphale tried to pout, but he was too intrigued by the whole situation to keep it up. “What’s its name?”

“Er- well, officially his name is Crawly. I’ve been calling him Junior in my head.” Crowley admitted sheepishly, instantly regretting the names he chose. “Have you seen the other one around? Looks like the little escapee got out of her tank.”

“I’m afraid I can’t say that I have. Why would you get two snakes?”

Crowley shrugged, bending down to pick up Crawly Junior and let him curl up around his arm. “Why would you not get two snakes?”

“Well, to be frank my dear, I have a hard enough time keeping up with the snake I already have. Two more would just be biting off more than I could chew.” He smiled innocently at the sharp look Crowley shot him. 

Without any further commentary, Crowley went about searching for his other snake, knowing full well that Aziraphale would follow him. It didn’t seem like he was looking very hard, hardly even taking the time to glance in the rooms, let alone actually stepping inside to examine any closer, and Aziraphale had a feeling he already knew where it was. 

“Ah! There she is,” Crowley said triumphantly when they entered his plant room. There on the far side was a reddish-orange blotchy snake sprawled out by the radiator. “That’s Tonya. Don’t look at me like that angel, I don’t intend to let them be free range around the house all the time, this was just until I could get some things set up for them.”

“Tonya... like Tony?” The angel followed Crowley into the room right over to where the other snake was at. To his surprise, Crowley didn’t pick Tonya up when he bent down, and instead seated himself on the floor before looking up at Aziraphale expectantly. Sighing in exasperation, Aziraphale followed suit, sitting in front of the demon and crossing his legs. 

“Well, she is a lady. Aren’t you dear?” 

Aziraphale coughed out a chuckle at Crowley’s fond croon. “So you have Crawly and Tony. Two juniors? You know it’s not uncommon for humans to name their children after themselves?”

“It’s Tonya, not Tony,” Crowley stressed, not answering the question. “She doesn’t appreciate being lumped in with the boys, do you princess?”

This time Aziraphale couldn’t help but start to laugh at the way Crowley gently patted the snake’s snout and stroked her head. Like it was his kid. To the angel’s surprise, the snake- Tonya- let out a hiss, and Crowley smiled. 

“Can you understand them?” He felt silly for asking as he heard the words coming from his mouth, but the way the demon had been interacting with the animals since he came in, and the way the snakes seemed to respond almost felt like he was watching a conversation unfold. 

Crowley blinked, finally looking back at Aziraphale. “Well, they don’t exactly speak the Queen’s English.”

“Oh, you know what I mean!”

“I suppose. It’s not really a language to understand- it’s a bit more surface than that. I can sorta... like, just sense whatever emotion they’re trying to get across. And of course, they’re clever animals. They know what we’re talking about, don’t you Junior?” 

Aziraphale was somewhat amazed to see the snake hiss and bump it’s head to Crowley’s hand like it was responding to what the demon had just said. It was hard to say whether or not if was a coincidence, but Crowley smiled all the same. 

“I’ve noticed Crawly acts a bit standoffish compared to Tonya,” Crowley continued. “But believe it or not, I’m pretty sure he likes being held too. It’s a warmth thing. Hard to resist.”

“So he takes after you more?” Aziraphale joked. He wanted to reach out and stroke Crawly’s scales again, but something held him back. Perhaps the newfound knowledge that snakes were apparently much more aware than he had originally thought was making him skittish. “Would it be alright if I were to pet him?”

Crowley glanced over at the snake starting to snooze around his neck and shrugged. “I’m sure he’d be fine with it. It didn’t seem to bother him too much earlier. It’s probably be a good idea to let them get used to you as well.”

Cautiously, like he was approaching a wild animal and not someone’s pet, he reached out to stroke his hand gently down the black snake’s back. The skin was sleek and cool, similar to Crowley’s, but much more packed with muscles. Even when he was relaxed, the muscles were firm and felt ready to strike or bolt at a moment’s notice. “What kind of snakes are they?”

“He’s a Mexican black kingsnake, and she,” Crowley said, nodding down at where Tonya had appeared and was starting to coil in Aziraphale’s lap, “is a Keys corn snake.”

“They’re not venomous, are they?” Aziraphale asked, looking anxiously down at the snake resting on his legs. 

“No, they’re constrictors,” Crowley assured him. “Probably will max out at a meter and a half, hardly dangerous at all.”

Aziraphale relaxed visibly and started slowly stroking down Tonya’s back. He fell silent for a minute, admiring the way the scales seemed to ripple as the snake breathed. She really seemed quite content to just rest in the warmth of his lap. He’d never imagined that snakes- actual animal snakes, not the demon variety- would enjoy cuddling, if you could call it that. “Is this how they snuggle?”

“They don’t really snuggle. They just like the warm. It can be tricky when you’re cold-blooded, that’s why I always have the temperature up in here.”

He did tend to keep a warmer house, Aziraphale noted. “Wait, is that the only reason _you_ like snuggling?”

“Course not. If it was, I’d get with any old warm-blooded person who gave me the time of day. Only reason I like snuggling is because of you.” Crowley only looked the slightest bit embarrassed at the admission of affection, and that made Aziraphale beam. 

Until he looked back down at his lap and sighed, unable to avoid the first thought he’d had as soon as he’d realized what Crowley’d done. “My dear...”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure it’s wise to grow... attached? I don’t know how long snakes usually live, but I do know their lifespans are significantly shorter than our own. Perhaps it would be best if we let one of our human acquaintances take them?”

“It’s fine, Aziraphale. I thought you be going nuts over this- me saving a few rescue animals and whatnot. Not a very demonic thing to do.”

“Of course. But you know how hard it can be to-”

“I know, angel. I’ll be fine. Promise.”

Aziraphale frowned, but decided not to press it any more for now. He knew that Crowley had a hard time opening up, and if he tried to push the subject, he risked the demon shutting it down altogether. Best to let him get there in his own time. “If you say so. Are they really rescue animals? And what do they eat?”

“The pet shop was closing! We’ll have to get them some mice.”

 _“Mice?”_ Aziraphale asked incredulously. “Like, _live_ mice?”

“Or frozen, yeah,” Crowley said with a bit of a grin. “Is that really so hard to believe?”

The angel seemed to struggle a moment before nodding in acceptance. It wasn’t like he wasn’t aware that some animals ate other animals; it wasn’t even that he wasn’t aware that snakes ate mice. Hell, he even ate meat himself on occasion. But the messy parts had always been done for him. He’d never had to hunt and kill it on his own before. And he’d never been too keen on watching other creatures hunt and kill each other for that matter. However, knowing that they could at least get already-dead rodents was somewhat of a comfort- he likely would’ve put his foot down at live ones. “I suppose if they’re frozen...”

“It’s the whole circle of life though, isn’t it? You know, big things eat the little things, big things die and decompose, become grass, little things eat grass, yada yada. All how She planned it, right?”

“Were you just trying to reference the Lion King?”

“If I _was,_ then you understood it too, so you don’t get to tease me for it. Relax, angel, I’m fine with being the one to feed them, if it makes you uncomfortable. ”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Aziraphale said wryly. 

“You said you had a place you wanted to show me?”

“Oh, yes! Here,” Aziraphale said, hurrying to pull some papers from his jacket without disturbing the serpent in his lap. “I thought we might go take a trip this afternoon when they’re having an open house to look at it- um, should we- uh- bring the snakes? See if they like...?”

The angel trailed off at the look he was getting from Crowley. “Angel, they’re _snakes._ We set up a nice warm space for them, they won’t care too much about the interior decorating or what the neighborhoods like.”

“Well, all I know about snakes is what I know about you, and you’re not exactly- you know- like the rest of them!” Aziraphale scowled at Crowley when he started laughing, although there really wasn’t much heat in it. “Do you want to go look at it or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, just help me get these two in their cages and we can go.”

•••

 _“You’ve_ never eaten mice, have you Crowley?”

“What- when on- why would I- you think I would eat a mouse?”

“That’s not really answering the question,” Aziraphale said pointedly. 

“So what’s the address I’m going to?” Crowley asked loudly, for once keeping his eyes glued on the road. 

“1925 King’s Road.” Aziraphale was silent a moment before glancing back over at Crowley with a shit-eating grin. “So, you went in a pet shop today, eh? Glad to see you avoided-”

”That’s it, we’re playing the quiet game until we get there!”

•••

The small cottage was, in all honesty, not much to look at. The first and most accurate word anyone would use to describe it was _quaint._ About as storybook a cottage as had ever been seen. Absolutely nothing like Crowley’s fashionable flat or Aziraphale’s chaotic bookstore.

“Well? What do you think?” Aziraphale asked after a single walkthrough. 

“I think it’s perfect. And I’m sure the snakes will love it too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should've had this posted like, three days ago, but I hate editing and kept putting it off. The next chapter is like, a few sentences away from being done, but it's still unedited so you can expect it in like, ten years or so.
> 
> Comments give me the strength to keep on writing! I really do read every last one, and they all mean the absolute world to me.
> 
> Shoot me a request or just say hi over at https://the-sinnamon-roll-writes.tumblr.com/


	3. Settled In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale get moved in together and make some plans for their future!

It hadn’t taken long before Crowley and Aziraphale had succeeded in making a comfortable, secluded little world of their own. The cottage they’d chosen was on the outskirts of the small village of Tadfield, Crowley having given in rather easily and admitting that ‘maybe a change of pace from the big city would be nice for a while.’ After three years, they’d managed to successfully mesh their contrasting styles. It had taken work to find that balance; Crowley enjoyed a more minimalistic approach to things after the chaotic crowds of Hell, whereas Aziraphale preferred to have _things._ Things, he felt, made a place unique and gave it character- Heaven, a place lacking in things, had been unbearably lifeless, and he had no desire to live somewhere like that. To the few humans that had remained a part of their lives (at first, to Crowley’s lame protests. It only took a few months for him to realize he actually enjoyed Anathema’s company, and that the Them never failed to make him chuckle), it seemed to take them forever to reach a point where they were both happy. Three years of what seemed like petty bickering dragged on in a childish mind like Adam’s or Anathema’s. 

But what was three years to creatures as eternal as angels and demons? To them, the years passed by in the blink of an eye, hardly even a fragment of the thousands of years they had known each other- or of the thousands of years together that they’d yet to experience. To them, three years was nothing more than a drop of water in the ocean. A sweet, treasured drop, that had been filled with more happiness than either of them had ever experienced, but a small drop nonetheless. 

The first of millions, created by every hour that they spent together, every minute they touched, every second they thought about each other. The littlest of things made life special to them. Even staying at home and curling up together in front of their warm fireplace, listening to the rain falling outside was cherished time. Just as long as they weren't apart. Of course, that didn’t stop them from taking trips together to make more lasting memories. Travel, for them, was easy, free, and fun. At first, they’d focused on the Earth, exploring every nook and cranny simply for the sake of exploration. Crowley enjoyed the warmer damp climates around the equator, Aziraphale’s breath would catch excitedly whenever he saw ice and snow, and they both adored areas with distinctive seasons- green springs, crisp autumns and the like. 

But there was hardly anything on Earth in comparison to the rest of the universe. 

“Crowley, do you ever think we should go away for a spell?” 

“Where were you thinking?” Crowley asked back, only partially listening as he sat curled up on the couch, reading a book that Aziraphale had gotten him to try. Aziraphale wouldn’t point it out for fear of accidentally discouraging it, but since they’d moved in together, Crowley had actually taken to reading any books that the angel had finished and left on the bedside table. Although he suspected Crowley knew, Aziraphale had started trying to leave stories he knew the demon would like. At first it was just spy novels and mysteries, but lately Crowley was showing an interest in fantasy and science fiction. Currently, it was a fantasy book about a small group of thieves who find themselves playing one game too many. It was one of the books written this century that Aziraphale had actually enjoyed. Crowley claimed he only liked it for the way the author turned swearing into an art form. 

“Well, I would love to see the stars.”

Aziraphale smiled at Crowley’s vaguely bemused look when he set the book down. He had taken to leaving his sunglasses off when it was just the two of them at home, and Aziraphale greatly appreciated how much easier it was to read him without them. “They’re outside. All you need to do is poke your head out the door and look up. Did you want to leave town and find a better place to stargaze?”

“No, I mean _really_ see the stars.”

“Er- you want me to show you constellations?” Crowley was clearly completely lost and wondering what part of the conversation he must’ve missed while he was reading that brought this particular subject up. The fact that he hadn’t put it together yet was making Aziraphale chuckle. 

“No,” he said patiently, “I want you to take me to them. I want to see some of the things you created. You had a hand in creating them, didn’t you? I’ve heard rumors that Alpha Centauri is a lovely place to be.”

“Oh!” The way Crowley’s face lit up warmed Aziraphale in the best of ways. He’d do anything just to get a glimpse of it. “I would love to! Did you want to go now?”

“Well, I’m not entirely sure about when. It would take a bit of planning- finding someone to keep an eye on the house for starters- but perhaps in a few months or so? I know,” he added at Crowley’s exasperated expression, “you aren’t overly fond of planning, but I am. Humor me in this?”

“Don’t I always? There’s not much point in hiring a house-sitter though, is there? I mean, that’s just another thing to put together, and it seems like there’s not much to worry about here.”

“Except the Juniors,” Aziraphale pointed out. “Some needs to feed and water, and give them attention.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. Aziraphale was the only one who called their snakes ‘the Juniors’. Even Crowley only called the one who resembled himself the most Junior. “I have no doubt that the kids would be just fine with having someone dropping a quick thawed-out mouse in their cages for a short spell.”

“Really? You think Tonya would be fine with no one doting after her for more than two-and-a-half weeks?”

The demon paused to consider that. Aziraphale did have a point- Tonya had a tendency to demand attention more than her brother, and she got a bit snappy when she was denied it. Last time they went on vacation for more than two weeks, they’d returned home to a rather hostile female snake sulking about. At least, that’s what it had felt like. She still hadn’t fully forgiven Crowley- he swore up and down that she only liked Aziraphale now, and the angel couldn’t deny that he’d noticed her snubbing Crowley in his favor. “Okay, you have a point there. I guess it would be a smart idea to get Anathema or her boy toy-“

“They’re _engaged-”_ Aziraphale pointed out. 

“To come check on things every now and then. Wait, when did they get engaged? To the dorky one?”

“Yes! We just got the invitation in the mail the other day, remember?” Aziraphale laughed when Crowley shook his head in exasperation. 

“Those freaking kids met like, yesterday! Don’t they know they’re supposed to flounder around like idiots for six thousand- mff!” Crowley was cut off by a soft, smiling pair of lips against his. He immediately melted into the kiss, returning it with enthusiasm. 

Aziraphale pulled away far too quickly, and Crowley actually felt himself leaning forward, trying to chase Aziraphale’s mouth without really meaning to. 

“Tease.”

“Where’s the fun in being easy with you?”

“With _me?_ Does that mean there are people out there that you _have_ been easy with?”

“Oh, don’t be crass!” Aziraphale scolded.

“You started it! You know,” Crowley said before Aziraphale could argue further, “I gotta say, it’s kinda surprising. I’ve always sorta thought of Newt as the kind of guy who would barely make it to boyfriend status with someone. Seems like most boy toys don’t actually get married.”

“Well, I feel like I married mine.”

“What?” Crowley asked, blinking. He’d known that Aziraphale had been with other people over the years, but as far as he knew, none of them had ever been more than a fling. “Who?”

The angel stared at him pointedly until understanding dawned on him. 

“Oh!” 

“Bingo,” Aziraphale said with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“Y’know, we haven’t _actually_ gotten married,” Crowley pointed out thoughtfully. “Think that’s something we should do?”

 _“That’s_ how you propose?”

“You think you could do it better?”

“I’d at least get down on one knee!” In spite of the indignant tone, his angel was smiling, that wonderful grin that let Crowley know that all was right with the world. “Despite your complete lack of romance, I suppose my answer would be yes. I would love to get married to you, dear.”

“I’m old. Getting on my knees is hard!” Aziraphale swatted playfully at the demon’s shoulder, then sighed happily when Crowley caught his hand and kissed his knuckles. “I do, uh, actually have something. Sorta related to this whole conversation, I suppose. Been, you know, waiting with it. Timing, and all. Didn’t really have a plan in place. Thought dinner would be a bit cliché-”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale interrupted, “what is it?”

Crowley’s face was slowly reddening as he straightened up and snapped his fingers. A small, white velvet-covered box appeared in his hands that he offered up to Aziraphale. He studied the angel carefully as his eyes widened and he opened the box. “I know it’s not... traditional, or whatever, but I figured there’s not much traditional about us, so why bother? I saw it a few months ago, thought it was ‘you’. You kinda have that whole theme going on- like, with the mug. It’s not a big deal if you don’t like it, I can always... throw it out, or something.”

“Oh, dear, it’s _beautiful!”_ Aziraphale’s eyes sparkled when he took the ring from the box and slid it onto his finger. (It was a perfect fit- the fact that they were two beings capable of performing miracles may or may not have had anything to do with that.) It was a silver signet ring, with the metal manipulated into ropes and swirls. Where the seal would normally be was a delicately laid pattern of white diamonds tapering off down one side. They had been placed to resemble feathers- creating a perfect, glittering angel’s wing. 

“You like it then?”

Instead of answering right away, Aziraphale chose to simply launch himself into Crowley’s lap and started to rain kisses down on his face. 

“How could I not? It’s perfect, Crowley. I never want to take it off. Where on Earth did you find it? The craftsmanship on it is absolutely incredible- I mean, the detailing is a work of art.” 

“Actually, I found it walking by that old antique shop. So it might be haunted. I decided to take it in to a professional, see just how legit it is. It’s actually worth a pretty penny- those‘re real diamonds, I don’t think the person selling it quite realized how much it was worth. I almost felt bad for him.” As he spoke, Crowley held Aziraphale’s hand up and admired the way the ring looked on it. “Looks good on you, angel. I’m glad you like it.”

“Beautiful.”

“I certainly thought so,” Crowley said before he looked up and found that Aziraphale was looking past their hands straight at Crowley’s face. One soft hand reached out to cup the demon’s cheek, and Aziraphale leaned in to kiss Crowley again, slower and with more purpose than before. Crowley hummed in appreciation, letting his hands fall to Aziraphale’s hips. 

Once again, it was Aziraphale who pulled away first, and once again it was far too soon in Crowley’s opinion. But this time he let it happen without protesting, instead choosing to simply meet those beautiful blue eyes with a smile. 

“I love you, my dear. I hope you know that.”

“I love you too, angel. More than anything.”

“Let’s go out tonight,” Aziraphale suggested, eyes once again drifting down to the ring on his finger fondly. “To celebrate.”

“I had planned on making dinner...” Crowley trailed off to see if the angel was going to make another suggestion. 

“Well, you haven’t started yet. You can make dinner tomorrow night. Why don’t we go try that Thai restaurant Anathema told us about? We’ve been meaning to for a while now. We could go see a show afterwards! Or if you’re tired, we could just order some food to go and take it back here.”

“Dinner and a show sounds great.” Crowley started nudging Aziraphale off his lap. “What time did you want to go?”

“I’m starting to feel a bit peckish now, actually.”

“Then I’ll change into something more presentable, and we can head out,” Crowley said smoothly, standing up. With a quick snap of his fingers, the silky pajama pants he’d been lounging in all day became his signature pair of tight black jeans, and Aziraphale’s old threadbare t-shirt he’d been wearing was a slimming, red button up. With a charming grin, Crowley offered his hand out to Aziraphale (who had already gotten dressed earlier to make a trip into the village), pulling him up off the couch to stand in front of him. “Ready to go, angel?”

“Of course, love.” Aziraphale smiled, looping his arm with Crowley’s. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're at all curious about the ring, I was picturing a cross between [this](https://carolynpollackjewelry.com/product/wings-sterling-silver-silver-carved-white-mother-of-pearl-oval-ring/) for the actual ring bit and [this](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/7670261837115759/) for the wing on it. I know it's not smart to use two reference photos, but I'm not smart and it works in my head, okay?  
> This work is getting a bit bigger than I had planned. I've got at least three more chapters lined up and just about finished, and a few half-baked ideas for like, two or so more. I feel bad cause I've been neglecting my other Good Omens fic that's been getting an assload more attention than this one is to work on this instead.  
> Anyhoo, kudos are great, comments keep me going! Shoot me a message or prompt @ https://the-sinnamon-roll-writes.tumblr.com/


	4. Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley needs some help cleaning his wings and then... then I got carried away. 
> 
> I had every intention of _not_ making this work smutty, but I failed. This chapter is NSFW. Very sweet, loving NSFW, but NSFW all the same. But this should be the only smutty chapter, and it won't be referenced in future chapters, so feel free to skip it if it's not your cup of tea!

The relationship between love and lust is a matter of great debate. Some believe that love and lust are two entirely separate things. Others say you can’t have one without the other. And still others say lust requires love, while love can exist without lust. Demons, of course, are meant to be creatures of lust, just as angels are of love. And for a very long time, it was widely thought that only humans were capable of feeling both. 

But as are most things in creation, love and lust, and how they are connected, are much more complicated than any of those beliefs. To take it a step further, the connection of angels and demons to love and lust is much more complicated than anyone had ever thought, as evidenced by Crowley and Aziraphale. While once most angels and demons believed themselves to be above lust and love, respectively, Crowley and Aziraphale have proven that angels most certainly can feel lust, and demons can most certainly feel love. 

For angels and demons alike, sex isn’t a necessity, insofar as it is in most other species. That is to say, if no angels or demons ever procreated, the future of either party would be in no danger, as sex does not result in offspring. So it just stands to reason that there is no point in angels or demons even having sex. 

Since the apocalypse that didn’t happen, Crowley and Aziraphale found themselves spitting in the face of reason increasingly often. 

•••

When Aziraphale walked in on Crowley, it was awkward, to say the least. 

“Oh! Um- would you like some help?”

“No!” Crowley answered far too quickly. His demon, looking mildly panicked and more than a little embarrassed, rapidly hid his wings from view as he spoke. Aziraphale had entered the room to find a shirtless Crowley with his large black wings out, and multiple mirrors set up at various angles around him. There was a small pile of ruffled, broken feathers at his feet, and to Aziraphale’s alarm, there was some blood dripping down as well. 

“You’re- um- bleeding,” the angel pointed out lamely. It was just now dawning on him that this was one in a mere three or four times that he’d actually seen Crowley’s wings, and they were admittedly looking less than superb. “Dear, when was the last time you took care of them?”

“Er- been a bit. A year. Maybe a couple years. Three, or so.”

“Crowley!”

“What? I forget sometimes! It’s not like I use them anymore. I can’t remember the last time I flew anywhere. Besides, when was the last time you groomed your wings?”

Aziraphale shot him a ‘really?’ look at his lame attempt to flip the conversation. “My wings are taken care of weekly. Those must be hurting. Why would you put it off like this?” 

“They don’t hurt that bad- what kind of a demon would I be if I couldn’t handle some achy wings? I just didn’t have the time,” Crowley said weakly. It was a blatant lie, but he wasn’t particularly interested in going into it right now. 

“Well, you should’ve made the time. For goodness sake, you know it’s not healthy to let them get out of shape! Now, what’s this about? I always got the impression in the past that you were rather proud of your wings.”

“Um... I mean, I am. I... didn’t want to bring them out anywhere you can see them.” Crowley’s voice could hardly be called a mumble, and if it weren’t for Aziraphale’s super human hearing, he would’ve missed it altogether. 

“Why not?”

“They’re not- ugh, I don’t know! They’re not _ethereal!”_

“What on _Earth_ are you talking about?!”

Crowley groaned loudly, looking like he wanted nothing more than to sink back down to Hell for the first time in ages. “Look, you’ve got those beautiful, angelic, stereotype white wings. They’re perfect. A reminder that you’re still in Her good books. But my wings are all wrong. They’re black. It’s wrong,” he repeated. 

“My dear, there’s nothing wrong with your wings. They’re beautiful. Or at least, they are when you take care of them,” Aziraphale scolded. His face softened when he saw Crowley’s uncomfortable expression. “I can help you with them, if you’d be alright with that. Some of the feathers in the back can be difficult to reach. If you don’t want me to, I’ll leave you to it. Just do something about them before you hurt yourself. And if that doesn’t bother you,” he added, “you’ll still need them for our excursion. I love you, but I’m not carrying you through space.”

“Not even as a snake?”

“No. Snakes are hardly built for space travel,” Aziraphale said firmly. “Just... for me? Please?”

That did it. As much as Crowley resented it (which wasn’t actually all that much), he always had a hard time saying no to his angel. Or, rather more accurately, he was absolutely and entirely incapable of saying no to his angel. “Fine. Come on.”

Crowley’s wings twitched, and Aziraphale suddenly realized that he wasn’t able to fully extend them in the bathroom. “Why were you doing this in here?”

“Thought there’d be less of a chance of you walking in. For future reference, a closed door means you should at least knock. Now let’s just get this out of the way.”

Aziraphale nodded and followed Crowley from the bathroom and into the bedroom where he pushed his demon down to sit on the bed and shuffled off to gather some supplies. It didn’t take long for him to return and stand behind where Crowley was sitting. “Wings out!”

Crowley had to admit, doing this in a larger space where he was able to unfurl both his wings completely felt good. He hadn’t given himself much of a chance to truly stretch them out recently, and he could feel his muscles breathe a sigh of relief as they barely grazed the walls in the larger room. He jumped when he felt hands carefully trace along his wings, getting a feel for what would need to be done and where to start. 

“Oh, these poor things. Really dear,” Aziraphale tsked, “this is just sad. You have such lovely wings, you should take better care of them.”

He didn’t get an answer, but the angel smiled when he noticed a faint flush on the back of his neck. It looked like Crowley had done a reasonably thorough job of sorting through the old feathers that needed to come out, only missing one or two broken, hard-to-reach secondaries that Aziraphale quickly plucked. Now came the long process of healing the parts where Crowley was bleeding, cleaning, and re-aligning the feathers that remained. His wings were longer than Aziraphale’s own and required quite a bit more maintenance after years of neglect, but after roughly four hours, Aziraphale was satisfied that the black wings had been reinstated to their former glory. Smooth and powerful, iridescent when they caught the light. 

Breathtaking. 

“There now, how does that feel? Better?” asked Aziraphale, stroking lightly along the tops of his wings. 

“That actually felt...” Crowley paused a moment and flexed his wings before finding a word that worked. “Amazing. I didn’t know it felt so good to have someone preen for you. I hate to say it angel, but you might’ve just found yourself a regular chore.”

“Oh, it’s no chore darling,” Aziraphale said with a dismissive wave of his hand. It froze in midair when he registered the other thing Crowley mentioned. “Have you never had someone else take care of them?”

Crowley scoffed at that. “Like I’d ever let another demon touch my wings. They’d be just as likely to tear them off as they would be to clean them. More likely, even. I’ve always made do on my own. It was just a bit- er, trickier this time. Had some catching up to do with the upkeep and whatnot.”

Made sense. Most of the other demons Aziraphale had had the displeasure of meeting hadn’t been what one might call overly caring. Among them, needing help was a sign of weakness, and weakness was unacceptable. Not that it was particularly acceptable among angels either, of course- but they had different ways of correcting it. Downstairs just tended to be a bit more _overt_ in their threatening than Upstairs. And in spite of anything else that could be said about Heaven, wings were treated with nothing but respect. 

But that wasn’t a problem for them any more. For now, they were beyond the cruelties of Heaven and Hell, and Aziraphale was going to make sure that Crowley knew that. With a happy sigh, Aziraphale once again ran his fingers along Crowley’s right wing, enjoying the soft warmth he found there and the relaxed hum he got from the demon in front of him. Slowly, he let his hands drift from Crowley’s wings to their base and started to knead at the muscles there, gently at first, but soon applying more pressure as he branched up to his shoulders, then back down to his lower back. In no time at all, Crowley was putty in his hands. Weak little moans of pleasure would escape his lips every so often, encouraging Aziraphale to continue his exploration. 

“Mmm... ‘Zira...”

Unable to help himself, Aziraphale leaned forward to kiss the base of his wings, trailing his lips up Crowley’s bare skin to the back of his neck. “Yes, love?”

Aziraphale’s warm breath against his neck made Crowley shiver, and he leaned his head back until he could see his angel’s face. “Please don’t stop.”

The angel couldn’t help but smile and nuzzle his nose into Crowley’s temple at the longing in the demon’s eyes. Aziraphale was all too happy to oblige. Smooth, manicured hands slid from the small of Crowley’s back around to his front and pulled him back firmly so their bodies were flush. Aziraphale nipped at Crowley’s earlobe playfully before continuing to explore his neck, shoulders, and back with his lips. One of Crowley’s hands caught Aziraphale’s and carefully dragged it up past his chest to kiss the palm. He positively purred when he felt Aziraphale’s teeth graze at the nape of his neck. 

When Aziraphale’s other hand slid down the front of Crowley’s pants and palmed at the bulge there, Crowley groaned desperately. His head fell back against Aziraphale’s shoulder, and the angel wasted no time in leaning forward to suck red marks along his exposed throat and collarbone. 

Crowley pulled away briefly to stand, and drew in his wings to turn around and face Aziraphale. He stopped at hiding them entirely when he felt a hand reach out and brush over them. 

“Don’t. Keep them out.”

“Bit impractical, don’t you-” 

“Don’t care. I want to look at them.”

The blush on his demon’s face made Aziraphale laugh and lean forward to pepper his cheeks with kisses. It seemed Crowley’s self-conscious issues disappeared rather rapidly as he started returning the kisses with fervor. He wasted no time in tugging Aziraphale’s shirt off and running his hands greedily down his bare chest. 

“But what- about- yours?” Crowley asked breathlessly into Aziraphale’s skin. He didn’t have to ask again; Aziraphale’s wings burst into existence and surrounded them in a sea of white, like they’d been waiting for him to say something. In an almost uncharacteristic display of tenderness, Crowley reached out and caressed several of the large, white feathers. “Beautiful.”

Now it was Aziraphale’s turn to turn red, although it was hard to say if it was because he was embarrassed or because he was aroused. Instinctively, his strong wings curled around the two of them, wrapping them in a protective cocoon of soft whiteness. Crowley’s black ones shrank back closer to his body; not for any fear of rejection or judgement, but more so he could get closer to Aziraphale and hide deeper in his feathers. His angel let out a poorly stifled moan when he felt Crowley’s hands on his hips and his lips on his jaw, then moving down his body with a tantalizing slowness that only a demon with centuries of tempting people could achieve. 

“You don’t need to be quiet, angel,” Crowley whispered. He had reached Aziraphale’s stomach, planting one last kiss into the chubby flesh there before he paused to look up and judge his angel’s reaction. “I love your noises.”

Aziraphale couldn’t help the whine that escaped when Crowley started pulling his pants and underwear off. _“Crowley-”_

“That’s it.” Crowley took his sounds as encouragement, and gently stroked his legs before twisting his head to press more hot kisses to the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs. He was on his knees in between Aziraphale’s legs now, looking up at his angel with wide yellow eyes, pupils heavily dilated in desire. It took a minute for Crowley to tear his gaze away from the deliciously wanton look on Aziraphale’s face and turn instead to the hard cock in front of him. With almost religious reverence, Crowley leaned forward and licked the tip. His eyes immediately flicked back up when a weak choking sound stuttered out of his angel’s mouth. “Okay?”

 _“Don’t stop!”_ Either he didn’t notice the wicked grin on Crowley’s face, or he chose to ignore it. A reaction like that had been exactly when he was looking for. Not one to deny his angel anything, Crowley leaned forward and wrapped his lips around Aziraphale’s dick. The noises leaving Aziraphale’s mouth were positively obscene and Crowley was desperate to hear more. Not needing to breathe came in handy durning these sorts of situations, as did the mastery of his gag-reflex that came with being a snake. He was able to take all of Aziraphale in his mouth at once. Above him, he heard Aziraphale make a small sound that went straight to Crowley’s groin. 

He would’ve smiled, had his mouth not been hard at work already, when he felt gentle fingers in his hair and legs tense around his head. Aziraphale set the pace, his hips jerking back and forth eagerly into Crowley’s mouth. At first, Crowley allowed his angel to take the reigns and fuck his throat, happy to let his yellow eyes drift back up to stare at Aziraphale’s beautiful face. 

After a few moments, Crowley moved to hold down Aziraphale’s hips, bobbing his head almost leisurely. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle it- he just enjoyed drawing the process out.

“Crowley, I’m- oh, _Crowley-!”_ It wasn’t until he felt the hand on his head tug at his hair that he pulled away from Aziraphale to look back up at him, and Christ, the expression there made him want to get right back at it. He was about to do just that, but Aziraphale caught his jaw and angled his face up before he could. “Wait, love. I’m almost-”

Crowley’s tongue darted out and licked his red lips, like he was contemplating whether or not he wanted to finish a meal or move on to dessert. The motion had Aziraphale holding back another moan, struggling against the urge to shove his head back down and let Crowley finish him off right there.

But that wasn’t how he wanted it to go. He wanted Crowley to get there with him, and that wasn’t going to happen unless his demon got some attention himself. 

“My turn,” Aziraphale said with an impressive amount of composure, given the circumstances. He guided Crowley back up, then flipped positions with him so that Crowley was seated back on the bed and Aziraphale was standing and turning around to reach for something at their bedside table. 

While it was always an option to simply miracle his fingers wet, Aziraphale found he rather liked using lube- something about taking the time and doing things without magic felt much more meaningful. He liked doing it deliberately and letting Crowley watch in excited anticipation. Crowley’s golden eyes stared up, wide and entranced, tracing Aziraphale’s every move with a hungry expression. 

Once he was satisfied that his fingers were lubed enough, Aziraphale leaned over the demon and bent down to kiss his lips- they were hot and wonderfully slick and made Aziraphale once again rethink his decision to pull away from them. His resolve- and his cock- hardened when he slid his hand down Crowley’s body to reach in between his legs and heard the strangled cry when he pushed a finger inside of him. _“Angel-”_

Crowley’s body reacted instinctively, seizing up and shuddering in desire, catching Aziraphale’s hand and leaving it totally immobile between Crowley’s thighs. 

“Legs apart, dear,” Aziraphale instructed gently, free hand coming to rest on Crowley’s right knee and nudging it away from his left. “That’s it. Good, darling, that’s so good.”

He continued moving when Crowley made a conscious effort to spread his legs again. It didn’t take long for him to be ready for a second, then a third finger. When Crowley’s hips started jerking up desperately, Aziraphale finally withdrew his hand, deliberately dragging one slow finger up along his demon’s cock and smiling at the whine it got. 

“Are you ready, love?” he asked. 

“Yes! Angel, yes I’ve been ready- ah!” Crowley gasped when Aziraphale began to work his way into him. 

He’d done a good job prepping him, and was easily able to slide all the way in Crowley’s ass. Even so, Aziraphale moved ever so carefully, treating Crowley with a gentleness no other being had shown him before, determined to make his affection clear with every move he made. 

Hands reached up to grab at Aziraphale’s shoulders, pulling him down so they were almost chest-to-chest. Aziraphale took it as an invitation and started kissing and sucking at Crowley’s neck and chest, humming as he felt the hands move down his body to his plump thighs, and Crowley’s hips start to roll with his thrusts. Aziraphale couldn’t help but speed up when he felt nails starting to dig into his skin as Crowley took in all the contact he could get. 

His demon below him was rendered an incoherent wreck when Aziraphale reached down with one hand and began to stroke his erection. Suddenly Aziraphale stopped and shifted onto his knees, pulling Crowley up to sit on his lap. Any protests Crowley had died in his throat when Aziraphale managed to hit that one blindingly incredible spot that left him practically seeing stars. Aziraphale’s hand went back to Crowley’s dick between them. His eyes never left Crowley’s face, watching the waves of pure pleasure wash across it with each push into his body. Crowley was never subtle- it was clear as day he was about five seconds from cumming just by his expression alone. 

“Az- Zira- angel, I’m going to- fuck-”

“Do it. Let go, love. Cum for me,” Aziraphale urged, his breath coming in short, quick gasps and his pace increasing. As much as he wanted to be gentle, Aziraphale couldn’t keep himself from starting to fuck him harder. Going by the way his toes were curling and his chest was heaving, Aziraphale concluded that Crowley didn’t mind too much. 

With a barely choked-back yell, Crowley came. A shiver of ecstasy ran through the demon as he felt Aziraphale join him, filling him with cum. The angel rode out his orgasm, his hips continuing to thrust into Crowley until he was entirely finished. Even after they were both spent, they kept still, Crowley in Aziraphale’s lap, his arms wrapped around the angel’s neck, face buried in his chest. Aziraphale’s arms cradled Crowley closely, rubbing his back in slow, gentle circles. 

“Are you ready to get cleaned up?” Aziraphale asked reluctantly after a few minutes, not quite ready to let go of him just yet. He turned his head to once again nuzzle Crowley’s temple affectionately and kiss his jaw. 

“Ngh.”

“Should I take that as a ‘no’?”

“Mmm.”

“Come on,” Aziraphale said, smiling as he scooped Crowley up like he weighed nothing. “Quick shower, then we can go to bed. Alright?”

“Looks like I don’t have much of a choice,” Crowley answered. He was trying to sound irritated, but it didn’t really work when he was snuggled close to Aziraphale’s chest with a content look on his face. 

Aziraphale was true to his word- their shower was a short one, spent wrapped in each other’s arms, getting sweat and other fluids rinsed off their bodies. Given the rubbery way his legs were starting to feel, Crowley managed to convince Aziraphale to carry him from the bathroom back to the bedroom and lay him back down on their bed. Crowley, in return, used a small miracle to dry them both off, and another one to replace the dirty sheets with clean ones.

Aziraphale let himself fall back beside Crowley, who sputtered indignantly when he wound up with a sudden face full of feathers. Laughing, the angel pulled his wing in just enough for Crowley to scoot out from under it. As soon as Crowley was in the clear, the white wing sprawled back out flat against the bed, and Crowley didn’t hesitate to flop face-first down on top of it, letting his own black wings drape across their nude bodies. He knew from experience that Aziraphale’s wings were strong enough to support him. 

“That was wonderful, Crowley. You were so good,” Aziraphale said, tenderly kissing Crowley’s cheek. “So, so good, dear, you’re _amazing.”_

 _“Every time,”_ Crowley said quietly into Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

“Every time what?” Aziraphale was warm, but Crowley felt wonderfully cool beside him, and he knew that the demon was enjoying his body heat as well. 

“Every time I think you can’t get any more amazing,“ Crowley said after a moment, with such a look of adoration on his face that it was making Aziraphale’s head spin, “you go and prove me wrong.”

Had it been possible for Aziraphale to turn redder, he absolutely would have- as such, he was suddenly very glad he was already flushed. “Oh, you are such a sap.”

“I get it from you! You’ve been a terrible influence on me,” teased Crowley. “I was a respectable demon before you got your hands on me. Evil, evil beast I was.”

Aziraphale snorted. “Please, you went around gluing coins to sidewalks and convincing children to start dramatics at family get-togethers. An inconvenience, that’s what you are.”

“I caused the Spanish Inquisition, remember? And World War One-”

“It was the second one you got credit for-”

“All that manifest destiny shite over in America-”

“You weren’t even _in_ America at the time-”

“The Russian Revolution-”

“It was the French Revolution, you idiot,” Aziraphale said, starting to laugh. “You didn’t actually have a hand it any of those events!”

Crowley was laughing too. When the angel looked down at him after a moment, he found Crowley was resting his chin on Aziraphale’s bare shoulder and was looking up at him. Unable to help himself, Aziraphale stroked some of Crowley’s hair back- he was starting to wear it longer again, said he liked it when Aziraphale braided it- then cupped his cheek, loving the way his demon leaned into his touch. 

“Mmm. I could’ve though.”

“I’m sure.”

“I’m a mean bastard.”

“You certainly are a bastard,” Aziraphale agreed. “One of you finer qualities.”

“Oh? And what would you say my other finer qualities are?”

“I’ve never met anyone who fishes quite as much as you.”

“And here I was, thinking I was being subtle.” As he spoke, Crowley’s eyes started to shut and he let his head roll to the side so his cheek rested on the angel’s shoulder. Postcoital bliss, gentle hands petting his hair, and Aziraphale’s soft warmth beside him made for an extremely sleepy demon. “‘M gonna fall asleep if you keep this up.”

Aziraphale knew all too well that Crowley wasn’t asking him to stop, so he didn’t. They’d played this game before. The rules never changed, the routine never got old, and neither of them would ever get tired of it. “Your hair is so beautiful when it’s long. You look gorgeous with short hair, naturally, but long hair... you look positively divine. 

“And then there’s the eyes. You don’t see very many golden eyes in this universe, they’re truly one-of-a-kind. Absolutely stunning.” Aziraphale spoke softly, unable to keep the fondness from his voice as he watched Crowley start to drift off. “Your wings, of course, are unlike any I’ve ever seen before. Like looking at the night sky.

“Your voice is delectable- I swear, I could listen to it all day long and never tire of it. Never tire of _you._ Not in a thousand lifetimes. I love every last bit of you, my dear, and I am so grateful for every day you’re with me. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

He was mostly talking to himself at this point, but Aziraphale liked to imagine that some of his words were reaching Crowley in his sleep. The small smile on his demon’s face told him that he had at least fallen asleep hearing the words Aziraphale had spoken, and that was enough for now. 

Although he wasn’t very big on sleep himself, Aziraphale felt his eyes starting to slide shut on their own accord. The feeling of utter peace and love that filled the room was intoxicating, stronger by far than any alcohol he had ever tried before. He could feel it in his bones, seeping in and surrounding him until it felt like there was nothing left but him, Crowley, and the pure adoration they had for each other. It made him feel safe, and more comfortable than anything else he’d ever experienced. As much as he wanted to stay awake and revel in it some more, Aziraphale couldn’t fight the tranquility that tenderly urged him to shut his eyes. 

Sleep wasn't so bad when he had his sweet, beautiful demon at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll pull chubby Aziraphale from my cold, dead hands.  
> Consistent consent and communication are sexy my dudes! Good lord, this really was terrible, I am so clearly not in the habit of writing smut.  
> Kudos are fantastic, comments give me the will to keep writing. Shoot me a request or a message [here!](https://the-sinnamon-roll-writes.tumblr.com/)


	5. Soft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So last chapter we had some insecure Crowley, now we're gonna see some insecure Az. Cause Heaven treated our favorite angel like shit, and some of that had to wear off on him, right? Anyhow, there is some internalized fatphobia here, but Crowley is going to start to help us all through it!

Crowley didn’t think too much of it, the first time he noticed Aziraphale staring into a mirror. His angel liked to maintain his appearances, keeping himself prim and proper to the best of his abilities, and he’d just assumed that was what was going on. It wasn’t as though Aziraphale had ever given him a reason to think that he was anything other than, at _worst,_ perfectly fine. Most of the time, he seemed to be fantastic. The life they’d built together was a good one, better than either of them had ever dreamed possible. It was free in a way that no creature- angel, demon, or otherwise- could ever achieve. They had an eternity together, with no bosses hanging over them to tell them what to do. 

Not literally, anyway. 

Over six thousand years of following the rules laid out by their supervisors had ingrained certain behaviors and beliefs that both of them had a hard time moving past. Hell had left Crowley rather paranoid, and constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being stalked. After all, even if he’d avoided any official punishment, plenty of demons would love the chance to skin him and salt the wounds, and the higher ups wouldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. And now that they were living together, he secretly worried that he’d put a target on his angel’s back as well- that thought had kept him up at night. 

Aziraphale, on the other hand, seemed to have a much better handle on things than his demon did. Rebellion had suited him, made him all too happy to distance himself from Heaven. At least, that’s what it looked like. While Crowley was suspicious and suffered from the occasional nightmare, Aziraphale looked to the rest of the world like the very image of a well-adjusted being. If he were being honest, Crowley would’ve said he was jealous at how easily Azirphale had moved on from his former taskmasters. He had assumed that knowing how quickly Heaven was willing to destroy him had laid any loyalties or belief he had in them to rest. 

How wrong he was. 

Altogether, it took him far too long to get it, and when he did, Crowley was caught totally blindsided. He simply wasn’t prepared to wake up and run into Aziraphale in the bathroom at three in the morning. 

He stumbled in, bleary-eyed and still clad in his boxers to find his angel already there. Aziraphale was only wearing a pair of sleep trousers and a small frown on his face as he looked down at the ground. Without really thinking, Crowley stepped over and wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s waist, resting his chin on the angel’s shoulder and giving his belly a playful squeeze. It was a gesture he had to have done a dozen times before, always meant to be a sign of affection. “G’morning-”

“Stop it!” 

Crowley pulled his arms back in alarm when Aziraphale slapped at his hands and turned around to glare at him. He couldn’t remember the last time his angel had struck him hard enough to sting. A few centuries ago, at least. 

“Wha-?” He was too stunned to say anything else before Aziraphale pushed past him and stormed out of the bathroom. His half-awake mind struggled to comprehend what just happened before he managed to semi-jolt himself into action and followed his angel, finding him tugging on a large, baggy t-shirt that Crowley had never seen him wear before. “Angel?”

“Don’t.” The tone was sharp, and Crowley felt his jaw snap shut. Probably a good thing, for now, as he had absolutely no clue what to say. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Well, that was a relief, as Crowley had nothing for him to hear. Aziraphale had never voiced any issue with Crowley hugging him in the past. Crowley frowned. Was he mad that he had just barged into the bathroom? He’d done it before though and it had never garnered this reaction. Maybe it was just one time too many. That made the most sense. At least, he wanted it to make the most sense. He didn’t like the other option. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve walked in without knocking. I didn’t mean to-”

Aziraphale cut him off with an almost hysterical burst of laughter, and Crowley’s frown somehow deepened. That was a good thing. Laughing meant he was happy, right? Apparently not, as the laughter stopped abruptly and Aziraphale sniffed loudly and rubbed at one eye. Feeling hopelessly lost, Crowley stepped forward and knelt down to the ground in front of Aziraphale and took the angel’s warm hands in his own cool ones. 

“Please talk to me.”

“I’m not mad that you walked in on me.”

“Then...?” Crowley trailed off, prompting Aziraphale to continue. 

“You... _squeezed me.”_

A flash of horror crossed Crowley’s face when he came to what, in his mind, was the next logical conclusion, and jerked his hands away. Aziraphale must’ve disliked his touch. He’d hoped so hard that that wasn’t the problem, because it meant that Aziraphale had been simply enduring his touches this entire time, and the thought of that made him shudder. “Aziraphale, I’m _so sorry._ I swear, I didn’t know it upsets you when I touch you- you should’ve said something, I would’ve stopped-”

“Oh, for the love of- I’m _fat,_ Crowley! It’s... it’s gross!” Aziraphale could feel his eyes start to tear up and cursed himself for it. He’d tried so hard to keep this issue to himself, convinced that the best he could hope for was Crowley simply mocking him for his insecurities. At worst, his demon would realize that he was right, that Aziraphale wasn’t what he wanted, and he would leave. He didn’t want to think about how much it would hurt to have Crowley sneer at him- but he couldn’t even begin to imagine how he would feel if he left. 

For his part, Crowley simply gaped at the angel in disbelief. “You’re... _what?”_

Aziraphale groaned, but kept his eyes glued to the floor, too scared to meet Crowley’s eyes. “I’m soft. Angels are meant to be fighters- strong and powerful. I’m not that. It’s pathetic.” 

“Erm- how’d this become an issue?” Crowley asked carefully, trying to downplay his upset. Slowly this time, Crowley once again took Aziraphale’s hands and started rubbing his thumbs over the backs of his knuckles. “Where’d it come from?”

“It was just something Gabriel had mentioned over the years. And Uriel. Michael brought it up too. Just pointed out that... my gut was too soft and that I should... pack on some muscle.”

Of course. The demon threw the briefest of glares upwards before turning his scowl back to Aziraphale, albeit with much less resentment. He really should’ve known Heaven’s special brand of abuse would have stuck with his angel. Aziraphale was a sensitive soul who felt things more intensely than just about anyone Crowley had ever known. While Crowley was rather vocal about things that bothered him- at times, excessively so- Aziraphale internalized things and let them eat away at him. Crowley was rather horrified that he hadn’t picked up on it sooner. How much had he missed because Aziraphale was too insecure to say anything? Because Heaven had spent so much time knocking him down and rejecting everything he said, everything he did, everything he was? When was the last time another angel had said anything genuinely kind to Aziraphale? For all their talk of love and acceptance, the majority of Heaven’s angels were a great load of insufferable twats. 

This was an Aziraphale that Crowley wasn’t used to seeing, and quite frankly, it was alarming. Usually it was Crowley who had the emotional meltdowns, and Aziraphale was the one to sober him up and get him through it. He couldn’t think of a time when he’d had to return the favor. Well, aside from the few times when humans had pulled something magnificently terrible that had left them both feeling down, but the mutual solution there was to simply get sloshed beyond all reason, and Crowley didn’t think that that would be the way to go this time. 

“Is... have I said or done anything to make you feel this way? To make it worse?” Crowley finally asked cautiously. He didn’t like that it felt like he was making it about himself, but he had to know if he had ever made his angel feel like he was anything less than perfect so he could try to make it right. 

Aziraphale stared mutely down at Crowley’s bare stomach, and he suddenly realized that perhaps being mostly nude wasn’t the best way for this conversation to happen. Not bothering to try and be subtle, Crowley simply snapped his fingers and made some loose pajamas appear on himself. Squeezing Aziraphale’s hands, Crowley took a quick breath and tried to think of what to say. There was so much he wanted to get across, he had no idea where to even begin. “Aziraphale, I don’t- I want you to- fuck. This is our home. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in it just by being shirtless. I don’t know- well, I don’t know _exactly_ what brought this about, but if I’ve had any part in making you feel bad, I want you to know that I didn’t mean to. I love looking at you, no matter what you are or aren’t wearing. I love seeing you naked just as much as I love seeing you in your cute old jacket.”

“Since when do you think it’s cute?”

“I think it’s cute every time I see it on you. When it’s hanging up, it’s atrocious,” Crowley tried to tease, “but the minute you put it on, it looks better than any designer jacket I’ve ever seen.”

The smile that flitted across the angel’s face was fleeting, but still felt like a small win. “I’m not what angels are supposed to be like.”

Crowley snorted. “If you were what angels are supposed to be like, then you would’ve smote me back in Eden. Since we’re talking about how we’re ‘supposed to be’ though, then I say we start with me- a demon with a moral compass? Who fell in love with an _angel?_ I’d say I’ve got you beat in the ‘wrongness’ department, love.”

This time it was a weak laugh that Crowley got out of him, and his heart soared, same as it did every other time he heard his angel’s laugh. Like the smile, it faded all too quickly. “That’s different though. It’s a good thing to not be like demons. Demons are vile, hateful creatures. Angels are meant to be perfect- oh no, dear, I didn’t mean-” Aziraphale realized what had just slipped out of his mouth all too late, judging by the mildly offended look that appeared on Crowley’s face. 

But Crowley knew what Azirphale had meant, even if it rubbed him the wrong way. Right now, his angel didn’t need his irritation; he needed his support and understanding, and Crowley was determined to give it to him. “Then you should feel all the more special. You got a vile, hateful creature to fall head over heels for you.”

Aziraphale blushed at that, feeling ashamed of his thoughtlessness. It had been centuries since he had last thought of Crowley as a _demon._ He was just... Crowley. And even before that, he’d never thought of him as vile or hateful. He’d long since created a divide between Crowley and every other demon out there in his mind. “My dear, I didn’t mean you- I don’t think of you like that, you know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I don’t think you’re like other angels either. And that’s a good thing, because the other angels all suck! I like you because you’re different, angel.” As he spoke, Crowley brought one of Aziraphale’s hands up to his face and pressed his lips to the knuckles. 

“But... it’s just... wouldn’t you like my corporation more if it was...” Aziraphale trailed off helplessly and pointed a finger down in the general direction of his stomach. 

“No. Angel, how long have you had this corporation?” Crowley asked patiently. 

“Um... 1500s, I believe?”

“Right. And how many of your corporations have looked just like this one?”

“Well, all of them. Getting a new body from Heaven involves a nightmarish amount of paperwork. Reusing the same-”

“So when,” Crowley continued loudly, “in the last six thousand _bloody_ years have I _ever_ given you any reason to think I would want you any other way than exactly how you are?”

Aziraphale went silent as he contemplated that question- six thousand years was a long time, and much had been said between the two of them. But the more he thought about it, he realized that Crowley had a point- he couldn’t think of a single time when his demon had made him feel like his body was wrong. In fact, if he really thought about it, he could recall several times when an offhanded comment made by Crowley had actually made Aziraphale feel _better_ about himself. Something stirred in Aziraphale’s chest then. Hope, perhaps. Adoration. The warmth that came along with knowing you’re loved by someone special. 

“Look, if you want to lose some weight, if that’ll make you happy, then I support that. But I won’t support _this._ You’re not doing it for you, you’re doing it for _them._ And we do things for ourselves now, not for Hell and certainly not for Heaven.”

Crowley knew better than to think that the effects of centuries of being under Heaven’s influence and living with their abuse was something that would go away with just a few sweet words. Just as he had his scars from Hell, Aziraphale had his own trauma to bear with. This was an issue that had been pounded into Aziraphale’s head for the last six thousand years, at least. It actually saddened Crowley to think of how much Heaven must’ve changed- when he’d last lived there as an angel, before all the fighting, it really had been all about affection and compassion. Unfortunately, the war had shaken angels and demons alike, and as a result, bonds between individuals started falling apart. After all, it was much harder to let go of someone when you loved them; in a time when half of the heavenly host Fell, the angels started growing apart from each other, and loving sibling relationships transformed to chilly business-like relationships. That had just been starting to change around the time that Crowley Fell. 

Apparently it had only gotten worse. Crowley finally released his grip on Aziraphale’s hands and let his left hand fall down to rest on Aziraphale’s thigh while the other one reached up to cup his angel’s face. 

“I mean it, Aziraphale. You’re amazing. You’re perfect the way you are, and I love every inch of you. I’ll say it as many times as I have to until you believe it.”

With an almost bashful smile, Aziraphale reached up to cover the hand that was on his face. “Say it again?”

“You’re amazing, angel.”

“Again?”

“You’re perfect.”

“Again.”

_“I love you.”_

With a small sound that was hard to place, Aziraphale pulled Crowley up so he was standing in front of him and threw his arms around Crowley’s waist, pressing his face into his stomach. If Crowley was surprised by the sudden movement, he hid it very well, simply letting his own arms fall around Aziraphale’s neck and resting his chin on the angel’s head. 

“I’m sorry dearest,” Aziraphale mumbled. “Just being ridiculous.”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said, pulling far enough away to get Aziraphale to look up at him. “Stop it. You’re not ridiculous. I mean, you have your moments, but not about this. You spent a long time listening to those wankers up there lie to you about everything- it’s not your fault that it stuck with you. But they were wrong.”

“I suppose...”

“And it’s okay if you can’t see that right away. Like I said, there’s a lot of unlearning to do, but I won’t stop until you believe me. And even then I probably won’t stop.”

Aziraphale couldn’t think of a single time someone had treated him with so much respect and adoring as Crowley was now. He could never get tired of it. “I would... appreciate that. Reminders, I mean. That you- oh, you know, that you love me.”

Crowley studied him closely with a fond smile, then let his thumb trace under Aziraphale’s eye to gently take care of the tears that had managed to spill down his cheeks. 

“As many as you need, angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Projecting? Me? Nah.
> 
> Seriously though, I love the idea of them having to deal with past abuse/trauma from Heaven and Hell, hurt/comfort is like crack to me. I might do a whole separate work based on this and just dig deeper. I wrote one for Crowley, y'all should check it out.
> 
> So coming up, I've got a wedding, a honeymoon, and another plain old fluffy chapter all in various stages of being completed. I was thinking about doing an Anathema/Newt bachelor/bachelorette party chapter too, and maybe one where the disaster husbands babysit. Thoughts?
> 
> Kudos are loved, comments are treasured! Shoot me a request over [here!](https://the-sinnamon-roll-writes.tumblr.com/)


	6. The Rest of Our Lives, Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Finally updates a month later* Sorry this took so long, I really have no good excuse except that life got kinda crazy and I wanted it to turn out decently. Hopefully it's worth it though. It's a wedding! I really upped the cheese factor here guys. Like, this probably takes the cake for sweetest thing I've ever written before.

“It would be lovely to get married in a church,” Aziraphale said offhandedly to himself one day, flipping through a magazine that had found its way onto their coffee table. 

“I could power through, if it’s important to you,” Crowley offered immediately, making Aziraphale jump. The angel hadn’t even realized he was behind him. When Aziraphale tipped his head back, he found his demon looming over the back of the couch, reading the magazine over his shoulder. “Or we could reverse the aisle walk thing- instead of walking _to_ the altar, you start at the altar and walk outside to me. Or you could carry me.”

“My dear, this is your wedding too. I’m not going to put you through that on our big day! Don’t you think that you jumping around would rather ruin the magic of it?” 

“Would certainly be amusing,” Crowley said with a shrug and a crooked grin. “Give everybody something to remember- one of the grooms hopping his way through the ceremony. Oh! I could get skates! Those would keep my feet off the ground.”

Even as he laughed at the thought, Aziraphale shook his head. He knew that Crowley was only half joking- if he pressed the matter, his demon would absolutely agree to it, but he meant what he said. It was just as important that Crowley enjoy the ceremony as it was that Aziraphale enjoyed it. And if one of them was in pain through the whole ceremony, then it would lose all its wonder. A wedding in a church wasn’t even close to being worth that. “Yes, until you stopped moving to take our vows and the wheels melt. Or you crash into the font and spill holy water all over yourself. Darling, I remember how bad the bottoms of your feet were after the church incident back in the forties. They were _black._ I’m not putting you through that again.”

“Alright, alright. As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Aziraphale promised with an indulgent smile. 

•••

“Do you think we should just rent out the Ritz? I’m sure they could feed everyone, and they certainly have space.” The conversation of how to feed their guests was one that had been more ongoing than others. They adored living in a small village, more so than either had anticipated. It was no big thing for them to take a trip to the city if they ever found themselves missing something they used to indulge in there; with Crowley behind the wheel, they could usually make it in roughly thirty minutes with good traffic. 

But they’d found that when including humans, the distance tended to make things a bit more tricky. They were oddly stingy with their travel time, something both Aziraphale and Crowley found odd, given how eager the species had once been to spread across the globe not so long ago. 

Crowley frowned. “The whole thing?”

“Why not?”

“Seems a tad excessive. It’s a pretty big place. I’m just not sure it would really be worth all that trouble. It’s not like we’re going to be inviting a whole host of people. We only know a handful of humans, and we aren’t exactly popular with our respective communities,” Crowley pointed out. “Maybe we should just have them cater it instead?”

Neither thought to check if the Ritz actually did cater, let alone cater an out-of-town event. But they assumed it did, therefore it would. That was a side effect of being supernatural beings that they hardly even noticed. Reality just tended to bend around their wills. Rarely noticed, but always greatly appreciated.

And already, it seemed, playing an important role in their wedding. 

•••

There was a sign taped up on their front door when Aziraphale arrived home. In stylish, loopy cursive, it read _‘The Juniors are out\- make sure the door is shut.’ _

(The other side of the sign read _‘The Juniors are in\- do whatever the fuck you want with the door.’_ Aziraphale had tried to convince Crowley that it wasn’t necessary, but the demon insisted after once having had to chase Tonya nearly four blocks when Aziraphale had left the door open on a nice day. In his defense, Aziraphale hadn’t known that Crowley was cleaning the terrariums and had let them out to stretch their metaphorical legs. So now they had a sign.)

“Crowley!” Aziraphale called, walking in and closing the door behind him. “I wanted to talk to you. I know you said you could bake the cake, but are you sure you don’t want to hire that lovely lady who owns the bakery in town? She makes that absolutely scrumptious chocolate cake with the raspberry filling, and her decorations are always beautiful.” As he spoke, Aziraphale walked towards the back of their home where the snakes’ room was, passing the radiator in the hallway where he saw the two creatures curled up. He smiled and paused to reach down and gently pat their heads. “Careful you two, don’t burn yourselves.” Unnecessary words, the snakes knew better, but he just couldn’t help it. Crowley would be absolutely devastated when their snakes passed, and Aziraphale had to admit that he would miss them terribly as well. 

“Are you saying you don’t want me to bake the cake for our wedding?” Crowley asked, poking his head out of the snakes’ bedroom. He was wearing a pair of sweats and no shirt. His hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail to keep it out of his face- the tell-tale outfit of a demon who’d just spent all day working. And that only meant one thing- he was anxious. Crowley handled his anxiety with a variety of different coping mechanisms, from sleeping it off, to breaking down and going on benders, to manically cleaning the house and working in the garden. Thankfully he hadn’t yet reached the point where he shut down entirely and turned into a snake. Today, at least. He’d managed to startle Aziraphale three days before when he came home to find an unexpected third snake that was a good deal longer than the Juniors curled up in their bed. “Am I not good enough?”

Underneath the words, Aziraphale could sense the insecurities and the double-meaning. The silly serpent was in a near panic at the thought of Aziraphale getting cold feet. “Oh dear, of course you are. The only one who could bake better than you would be me,” he said with a playful smile before continuing. “I’m just worried you're biting off more than you can chew. There’s only so much one person can take, even if that person is an occult being. All I’m asking is that you take a small step back and realize that you don’t have to do _everything.”_

Crowley sighed, but smiled all the same. “I guess. I just want it all to be perfect, and you know, if you want it done right, do it yourself and whatnot.”

“The only thing that’ll make it perfect is the two of us being there together. Anything else is just...” Aziraphale trailed off momentarily, waving his hand as he searched for the right word. “Cherries.”

Skepticism remained on Crowley’s face, but Aziraphale could see the ghost of a smile there when he nodded. His eyes flickered down to Aziraphale’s feet and he gestured with a jerk of his chin. “You have a tail there.”

Aziraphale followed the movement down to see Tonya starting to coil up around his ankle. “Oh, hello there, dear. Here,” he said bending down to pick her up, “come here. Have you been good today? Helping Crowley with your brother?”

“Please, the most helpful thing she’s done all day is take a nap,” Crowley scoffed. “Apparently my cleaning her tank is offensive when she’s resting.”

“Well, you wouldn’t want me making the bed if you were still sleeping in it, would you? It’s just plain rude.”

“You _have_ made the bed when I’m in it,” Crowley pointed out, conveniently leaving out the fact that he’d been sleeping for a week straight without moving a muscle. In his defense, they’d just arrived home after a month long excursion to India. Despite that he wasn’t quite ready to move on from the wedding talk, Crowley had to laugh at the way his angel crooned at the snake that was wrapping herself around his arm. Although he’d originally been against keeping the Juniors, Aziraphale had surprised no one at all when he fell absolutely in love with them. “Besides, it needs doing! And it’s not like she’s going to clean it herself. Not my fault if she’s a lazy little creature. Honestly, she’s our problem child.”

“Don’t you listen, Tonya, you’re not lazy at all,” Aziraphale cooed, even as the snake looked to be sleeping on his warm arm. “You’re a clever little lady who knows how to spend her energy wisely. Unlike some other snakes in this house.”

Crowley rolled his eyes at the pointed look he got. “I’d say cleaning is a good way to spend energy. Better than getting drunk off my ass, right?”

“Sad that those are your two options. Frantic cleaning or drinking.”

Electing to ignore that, Crowley turned back to the snake’s room to resume putting Crawly’s tank back together. “Check on Junior, would you? This is about ready for him again.”

Carefully, as to avoid a startled nip, Aziraphale bent over to pick up the darker snake. If Tonya liked Aziraphale more, then Crawly much preferred Crowley. Aziraphale gazed at the snakes in his hands with mock thoughtfulness as he handed the longer dark one off to Crowley. “You think they could be ring-bearers?”

Crowley’s genuine laugh was all the response the angel had been looking for. 

•••

The rest of the wedding planning went much in the same way, both of them making suggestions for both traditional wedding activities and ones that could be unique to them. 

In the end, they wound up having the exchange of vows take place simply at the register office where they had Madam Tracy and a slightly confused Sergeant Shadwell sign as witnesses. (The retired witchfinder seemed taken aback by the fact that his former patrons knew each other and were, in fact, quite in love.) They kept the vows simple and rather traditional, although the usual promises of loving someone until death did them part held a deeper meaning for beings like themselves that neither of them missed. 

The wedding reception took place at their own home, at Aziraphale’s suggestion, immediately after the ceremony. (Aziraphale had suggested they rent a limousine to drive them home from the office, which Crowley had vehemently rejected. “I’m not having some random human driving us around. They’ve had roads thousands of years now, and no matter what they’re driving, they can’t seem to keep from getting into accidents. Besides, the Bentley would get jealous.”) Their cottage was quiet, with a large enough garden to host, and within walking distance to everyone. And as a plus, it was decidedly not holy, so no burned soles for Crowley. 

They chose not to invite very many people; Anathema and Newt were there, of course, as were Madam Tracy and Sergeant Shadwell. The Them all showed up, as they still had a tendency to gravitate towards Anathema, and found Crowley and Aziraphale to be a source of endless amusement. Mr. and Mrs. Young also stayed to celebrate, Mr. Young having decided at the airbase that Crowley and Aziraphale seemed to be ‘a decent sort of people,’ a judgement that his wife was quick to agree with. Both Aziraphale and Crowley were of the opinion that this antichrist’s parents were far better than the parents of their not-antichrist child. 

(Upon meeting the Youngs, Aziraphale had pointed out that perhaps it was for the best that they had been there for Warlock. Unlike Adam, he hadn’t grown up with doting parents, and had needed all the extra love they’d had to offer. They had considered inviting them, but decide against it, not wanting to go through their wedding as the caricatures that the Dowlings thought they were.)

It was a casual affair- everyone who came showed up in their normal street clothes, including Aziraphale and Crowley. The Them seemed to appreciate that gesture greatly- no one wanted to think about how it might go if someone tried convincing Pepper to wear a dress. 

To Aziraphale’s delight, Crowley took his sunglasses off around two hours into the reception, disappearing them with a quick wave of his hand. He looked strangely, wonderfully vulnerable without them, and Aziraphale was enraptured with it. His yellow eyes were filled with warmth, with a peace that, until a few years ago, Aziraphale had only seen once or twice in all the time he’d known him. 

“I thought we agreed to keep the miracles to a minimum?” Aziraphale asked with the ghost of a smirk. By no means was he complaining- he’d actually been hoping Crowley would take them off at some point that day. He knew how sensitive his demon could be with his eyes- and after thousands of years of being quite literally demonized for them, Aziraphale could hardly blame him- so he never would’ve suggested he get rid of the glasses, but he was overjoyed that Crowley was comfortable enough to put himself on display. 

“A small miracle is worth it if I get to look at you without those, angel.” The twinkle in Crowley’s golden eyes was intoxicating, and Aziraphale suddenly found himself sympathizing with Eve- right now, he was certain that his serpent could tempt him to do anything. “All I did was put them away safe inside. Hardly counts, right? Okay, and I made the Youngs think that they’re normal, that’s it.”

“I do love looking at your eyes,” Aziraphale said. It was unclear whether or not he’d been paying attention to Crowley’s excuses. “They’re so lovely.”

Aziraphale leaned in then and placed a chaste kiss to Crowley’s cheek, smiling at the faint blush that still appeared on occasion when they touched.  
_  
“Well you done done me, and you bet I felt it_

_I tried to be chill, but you’re so hot that I melted_

_I fell right through the cracks..._

_Now I’m tryin’ to get back”_  
  
Aziraphale’s smile widened when Crowley pulled him close, and he allowed his hands to come and rest on the small of his demon’s back. They had decided to allow the humans to be in charge of the music, and the first song Pepper chose felt like a lazy summer day, spent sitting together on a swing in a garden, doing nothing but sipping cool drinks and cherishing the company of one another. Crowley practically melted into Aziraphale, hiding his smile in the crook of his neck.  
__  
_“So I won’t hesitate no more, no more_

__

__

_It cannot wait_

_I’m yours_

_Well, open up your mind and see like me_

_Open up your plans and, damn, you're free_

_Look into your heart and you'll find love, love, love, love”_  
  
“I can’t believe we actually did this,” Crowley said into Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

“Why not?” Aziraphale asked, not bothering to fight the almost-goofy grin on his face. Honestly, he was feeling rather awestruck too. A wedding- and to Crowley, no less- was something he’d never even dreamed of _imagining_ for a whole host of reasons. All the odds in the universe were so stacked against this event happening that it had seemed totally impossible. Not for the first time, Aziraphale wondered if Hell actually had frozen over. 

“It just doesn’t seem quite real. I mean, a wedding is such a human tradition- a demon getting married is unheard of. And a demon getting married to an angel- Earth is the only place crazy enough for it to actually happen.” It was like Crowley plucked the words right out of Aziraphale’s mind.  
__  
_“Well open up your mind and see like me_

__

__

_Open up your plans and, damn, you're free_

_Look into your heart and you'll find that the sky is yours_

_So please don't, please don't, please don't_

_There's no need to complicate_

_'Cause our time is short_

_This oh, this oh, this is our fate_

_I'm yours”_  
  
Their guests applauded as the first dance ended. It was over all too soon, in Aziraphale’s opinion, but he couldn’t complain about anything through all the love and happiness floating through the air. It was contagious, and the angel knew that he couldn’t be upset, even if he tried. 

As neither angels nor demons were particularly renown for their dancing skills, Aziraphale and Crowley spent most of their time on the dance floor slowly swaying together. At one point, Brian and Adam managed to wheedle Crowley into doing a more... exuberant dance with them that involved a lot of flailing limbs, shaking hips, and laughter from all parties involved. Aziraphale was pleased to see Anathema holding her phone up and recording it, and was sure to tell her to please, be a dear and send them a copy of that. 

Of course, turnabout was fair play, and Wensleydale and Pepper convinced Aziraphale to demonstrate a classic dance style, and he was all too enthusiastic to teach them the gavotte, a dance he had been entirely saddened to see go out of style. Adam and Brian got themselves involved, and soon enough, the angel had a line of teenagers dancing at his side with all the expertise of French gentlemen in the seventeen hundreds. This time it was Crowley recording, and he looked wickedly delighted to be doing so. When the song ended, the Them actually looked disappointed, and it was only his desire for another drink that made Aziraphale leave them to flounder with the music to try and find a song that they could continue to dance to. 

“Goodness, at what point do they start to lose all the childish energy?” Aziraphale asked, looking a tad flushed as he dropped down to sit beside Anathema. 

“Usually people start to lose it around eighteen or nineteen. With the Them though, who knows?” Anathema answered. She was smiling at the teenagers, who were currently modifying the dance they’d just been taught by mixing in various modern dance moves. “They’re a unique group of kids. Lots of personality there.”

“That they are,” Aziraphale agreed. “Fascinating little creatures.”

Anathema looked at him in interest. She suddenly found she had a treasure trove of questions she wanted to ask these two immortals beings. What was Heaven like? Hell? Which religion held rules closest to what God actually wanted? She wasn’t totally sure she wanted to know the answer to that last one; she had engaged in plenty of behavior that spat in the face of most of the more traditional religious views. 

Still, Anathema had a feeling that those questions were best saved for a time that wasn’t a wedding. She’d have to set up a brunch date with them at some point in the near future. Best to keep it simple and save the questions for then. “How long have you two known each other?”

“Since before time,” Aziraphale said almost wistfully. 

“Really? That long?”

“The drop of the hat actually, for creatures like us. I don’t even have a frame of reference for how long I was in existence before then. It’s only been around six thousand years since I first met Crowley. This Crowley, not whoever he was before- oh yes, you humans are a bit off with your estimations about the age of your planet,” Aziraphale added when he saw Anathema’s surprise. “I suppose the age of the universe might be more akin to your current theories, but time hasn’t existed that long, so really it’s difficult to say.”

Anathema’s jaw was hanging open ever so slightly- rationally, she’d known that Aziraphale and Crowley were an angel and a demon, but she had never stopped to consider the implications of that. She actually had to remind herself that they were celebrating a union today, and it was not an ideal time for pestering him with questions, no matter how desperately she wanted to. _‘I should make a list.’_

“Interesting,” was all she could muster for the moment before remembering that they were in the middle of a conversation and jerking herself out from her thoughts. “So was it love at first sight?”

“Hardly. Well,” he corrected himself, “not for myself. Not sure about him. I was actually... not _afraid_ of him, but I was certainly anxious, when I first encountered him. It took me quite some time to realize that nothing I’d been taught about his kind was true of him. And it took even longer for me to realize I’d fallen for him. He’s been ever so patient with me about it.”

When Anathema looked back over at him, she found him gazing across the yard where Crowley was sitting and chatting with Newt, and practically had hearts in place of eyes. She had to blink when Crowley caught his eye and grinned and Aziraphale quite literally started to glow. Brightly. “Um, Aziraphale...?”

“Hm? Oh! Sorry, my dear girl. Just slips out sometimes, as it were. Oh no, my cake!” The angel exclaimed when he accidentally dropped his plate in a flustered rush to contain himself. He had the grace to look a tad embarrassed while he focused on reigning himself in. Although he managed to dim it down, now that Anathema had noticed it, she realized that his aura was still radiating pure, adoring light. She almost felt like she was intruding on a private moment. In a weak effort to appear disinterested, Anathema took a heavy drink out of the cup in her hand, nearly choking when Adam rushed by and tripped over her feet. The boy went down hard, but landed laughing at himself. The mere fact that he didn’t try and play it off was evidence of just how much he had matured since the not-end of the world. He recognized his own mistakes, and learned to accept and laugh about them, taking the lessons as they came. For instance, just now he learned not to run where you might slip on a piece of cake smeared over the ground. Maybe his cheeks turned a little red when he looked down and found he had black and white frosting spread across his chest, but he still managed to take it in stride. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to do that.”

“Quite alright, dear boy,” Aziraphale promised, “it wasn’t your fault. I’d already dropped the plate to the ground.”

“It’s a nice wedding,” Adam added politely with his crooked smile. “Everyone’s having a good time. No one can talk to Crowley without him swooning over you. It’s kinda cute.”

“Thank you! I certainly think so.” Whether he was talking about the wedding going well or Crowley being cute was unclear. Inadvertently, Aziraphale turned his eyes back to his husband, his small smile growing once again. Somehow he’d moved on from his conversation with Newt, and was now having a surprisingly in-depth conversation with Pepper about gender expression and stereotypes. 

She seemed incredibly interested in Crowley’s overall lack of attachment to any one gender, nodding seriously when he said that he tended to present as a man because “men can get away with more, and that’s useful in my line of work.”

Pepper nodded understandingly. “But not always?”

“Nope.”

“So you’re non-binary?”

“Er- what’s that?”

“It means you don’t adhere to the two-gender binary. It’s not a new thing, but my mom says it only seems more common because people are finally able to come out and talk about it instead of being forced to hide themselves.” 

“I have met a few people like that over the years,” Crowley mused. Honestly, it sounded about right for him, but he’d gone this long without any labels, and he didn’t feel that it was such an urgent thing that he needed to worry himself with it right now. “Really depends on the culture. Used to be more widely accepted in a lot of places, back before colonialism.”

Pepper’s face seemed to light up when she realized that this was someone who had lived through all of the social movements in human history. A veritable fountain of knowledge. Unlike Anathema, Pepper couldn’t bring herself to hold off with her questions. Hardly stopping to breathe, she started firing off all kinds of inquiries, from what he thought was the most effective form of protest (“the French nailed it with their revolution”) to, in his opinion, how far the rights of minority groups have developed (“it’s never been easier, but you lot still have a lot to do”). 

As much as he appreciated Pepper’s interest, Crowley couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved when Madam Tracy approached them. 

•••

Twilight was just turning to night when the guests eventually started trickling out. 

“Have a good night you two,” Anathema said with just the hint of a sparkle in her eye as she and Newt started to set off. They wound up being the last guests there, Anathema having taken a rather long time to finish her last drink. She wasn’t usually a fan of alcohol, but she had to admit, the angel and demon had fantastic taste in wines. “And again, congratulations. You deserve it.”

“Thanks for coming. Was good seeing you, book girl.” Crowley grinned when she rolled her eyes and turned to follow Newt out to Dick Turpin. Newt had been absolutely overjoyed after the apocalypse didn’t happen and he found his car looking as though he hadn’t flipped it off the road to avoid hitting some Tibetan folks. If he were being honest, the whole incident was a bit fuzzy in his mind, but he was still immensely relieved, and was sure to remind Dick Turpin of that fondly every chance he got.

As they watched the last of their guests drive away, Aziraphale’s hand slipped into Crowley’s, and he tilted his head to rest on his demon’s shoulder. 

“The stars are out tonight,” Aziraphale remarked, looking up. Crowley followed his gaze towards the sky and found that there was indeed a staggering amount of stars visible. After so long living in the city, he still wasn’t quite used to living without the constant light pollution that regularly blocked his best creations.

“Fancy a drive? We could pack up a snack and go do a bit of stargazing,” Crowley suggested. “Sneak preview of what we’ll be seeing on our honeymoon.”

Aziraphale beamed. “That sounds delightful. I’ll go get some wine and biscuits.”

They drove about twenty kilometers outside of town until they reached a coast line where they parked and wandered out to sit on the beach. Instead of biscuits, Aziraphale had ended up packing cheese and crackers, as well as a couple of slices of their cake. He elected not to bring along wine glasses in the interest of not breaking anything; it was just the two of them, no harm would come from drinking from the bottle. It wasn’t as though they’d never done it before. 

“My dear, you look so beautiful in the starlight,” Aziraphale said at one point with a happy sigh. He’d just completely interrupted Crowley in the middle of his rant- something about how humans really didn’t appreciate the night sky anymore- but couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty when he saw the way his demon blushed and spluttered at the unsolicited affection. 

For a while, the crash of the waves was all they could hear, the dark water shimmering with the reflection of the night sky. Despite them being only kilometers away, and that this was a fairly regular sight, it still took Aziraphale’s breath away. The gentle sound of the waves rolling back and forth kept them from talking too much, content to just bask in the cool summer night air in silence. As the night grew more chilly, Aziraphale pretended not to notice the way Crowley scooted closer to him, taking what warmth he could get. They munched on the food and sipped at the drinks, cuddling close and occasionally mentioning something that happened at the reception that one of them may have missed. It felt so familiar, and Aziraphale realized then that they had been doing this for thousands of years. Sitting together, snacking and chatting. The only difference was that now they didn’t need to fear the contact- they were free to touch and enjoy the balance that came with Aziraphale’s warm skin on Crowley’s cooler skin. 

It wasn’t until the food was finished and Crowley had started shivering that Aziraphale suggested they return home. 

Their drive back was quiet- the comfortable sort of quiet that came with years of warm familiarity between the two of them in the Bentley. For once, Crowley listened to Aziraphale and drove carefully, managing to keep it within a reasonable range of the legal speed limit. Perhaps he felt that, on their special day, he should listen to his angel- more likely, he was just enjoying holding Aziraphale’s hand over the gearshift. 

When they arrived back at their comfortable little cottage at around eleven, Crowley was out of the car and opening the passenger door with a dramatic flourish before Aziraphale had a chance to even reach for the handle. There had been some debate as to who should carry whom over the threshold. They were both plenty strong enough to carry each other, and given that neither of them were overly attached to any gender roles, they decided that it would simply be a matter of who was picked up first. 

Aziraphale was fairly certain that Crowley had used this chivalrous action to try and distract him, trying to lull him into a false sense of security before hauling him into his arms. Had it been anyone but Aziraphale, it might’ve worked. But as it was, the angel knew Crowley well enough to see right through him. Careful not to give Crowley any clue that he was onto him and watching out of his peripherals, Aziraphale started shifting his legs out of the car. He waited until his feet hit the earth and he saw his demon tense up to grab him to make his move. Not unlike a rugby player, Aziraphale surged forward and hauled Crowley up over his shoulder, grinning triumphantly as Crowley started laughing too hard to even complain about being carried inside. 

“That wasn’t bridal-style,” Crowley said when he was set down, still smiling broadly. _“I_ would’ve done it right.”

“You’re not a bride right now, dearest,” Aziraphale pointed out. “At least, if you are, you haven’t mentioned it to me. Would you like to try it again?”

“Nah, I can think of some better things to do. Should I grab us some more wine, angel?” Crowley offered, turning and walking to their kitchen without waiting for a reply. He decided that, in the interest of avoiding having to make multiple trips, just bringing two wine glasses and a whole bottle of red would do for the rest of the night. 

Arriving in the living room, he found his husband- Crowley doubted he would ever get tired of that- had stripped himself of his outer formal wear down to just his pants and shirt. There was soft music coming from his angel’s old gramophone, and Aziraphale was lighting some sweet-smelling candles. 

“Aziraphale, you really know how to treat a demon.”

“Oh good, you like it. I was worried it would be too much,” Aziraphale said, reaching his hands towards Crowley in a clear invitation. Of course, his demon accepted, stepping forward and only pausing to pour them each a generous glass of wine and set the bottle down on the coffee table. After Aziraphale took the glass he was offered, they both carefully clinked the rims together in a wordless toast. The simple gesture said enough. 

_To us._

They drank deeply to their future together, each draining their glass entirely. 

“Well dear,” Aziraphale said, placing down his wine glass to catch Crowley’s hands and squeezing them with a coy smile, “you know what comes now, right?”

Crowley’s eyes shone with excitement when he answered. “Our honeymoon!”

Aziraphale couldn’t help it. A burst of laughter erupted from him, and he soon found himself doubled over at the completely baffled look on his husband’s- Lord, did that title give him butterflies- face. “No. Remember, we aren’t leaving for another three days?”

“Then- _oh!”_ Crowley’s face turned a bright red that almost matched his hair. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed over what he was suggesting they do- it was more that it wasn’t him who’d thought of it. He was a _demon_ for fucks sake, shouldn’t that be the first place his mind went? “Oh, shut up, I’m excited about going to space, that’s all. It’s been a long time. I could get all the sex I want down here, but there’s not really an abundance of stars and- don’t look like that, angel, I was kidding! I only meant it’s an _option_ \- you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”

“Ever?”

“Of course, ever.”

Aziraphale was quiet a moment, staring into Crowley’s eyes thoughtfully. “So, anyone before me...”

He didn’t look angry or hurt, and Crowley got the sense that he was really just curious. Maybe in the early days of their relationship, Aziraphale would’ve been jealous, but by this point, there was hardly any way they could doubt the sincerity of the feelings between them. “Everyone before you was work. Didn’t really have a say. You know, demon’s job to spread a little lust. Most of the time I couldn’t even get into it.”

“Most of the time?” Aziraphale’s eyebrows shot up in mild amusement. 

“Well, back in the Renaissance, I did have to sleep with Da Vinci. That guy was ten pounds of dynamite in a-” he broke off laughing when Aziraphale swatted at his chest. 

“Honestly, dear, we just got _married!”_ His smile took any heat right out of his words. 

“You asked. For the record though,” Crowley said with just a trace of cheek, “you are way better than Leo ever was.”

“Well, I have had a great deal more experience than... _Leo_ could’ve ever gotten.”

“Jealousy isn’t a good color on you, angel.”

“I’m not jealous!” Aziraphale squawked indignantly. “Jealous... honestly, the things you’d accuse an angel of...”

Aziraphale trailed off when Crowley stepped closer to him and wrapped his arms around his angel once again. Almost unthinkingly, they both began swaying slowly to the music again. It was much softer music than most of what the humans had chosen to play, and it was a pleasant change. Not that they both didn’t enjoy the party- they had, immensely so. It was just that the peace and quiet that came with just being the two of them was an undeniable relief. Crowley buried his face into Aziraphale’s mess of blond hair, and Aziraphale pressed his cheek tenderly against Crowley’s chest. 

They could’ve stayed like that forever, tangled together, dancing leisurely and laughing whenever toes were stepped on. They remained together like that for who-knows how long before Crowley finally pulled away. He didn’t go far; snagging Aziraphale’s wrists, he tugged them both through the house to their bedroom to flop down on the bed. The music had been turned off with a careless snap, the candles with another, and the wine was all but forgotten on the table. Aziraphale took the opportunity to snuggle down into Crowley’s chest, and the sudden familiarity of the position sent him back to that first night in Crowley’s flat- the one where they had confessed to each other. At the time, it had been the very best night of his life. Now, more than three years later, that record was being beaten every night he spent alongside his demon. 

And tonight was certainly blowing them all out of the water. 

“Does tonight ever have to end?” Aziraphale asked quietly without moving. 

“I could stop time, if you want. For a little while.”

Apparently that was a catalyst, and Crowley felt just a little bit sad as Aziraphale started to shift. He didn’t go far though, only adjusted his head to look up at his demon. “Crowley dear, you really must stop offering to do things that might hurt yourself for me.”

“Stopping time doesn’t hurt. ‘S just a bit tiring, is all.”

“Exactly. I don’t want you to tire yourself just for me with pointless miracles. I want you to be nothing but perfectly comfortable, so you can enjoy this just as much as me.”

“I am enjoying it,” protested Crowley indignantly. “How could I not? Lying down with the most beautiful angel in all of creation? I’m just in the same boat... don’t want tonight to end.”

It was almost cute, the way Crowley trailed off self-consciously. Like in the middle of being affectionate, he remembered he was meant to be some hardcore, emotionless demon. He was continuously getting better at dispelling that headspace when it was just the two of them, but on occasion he still fell back into the old habit of pretending softer feelings didn’t exist. 

“Well, we don’t have anywhere to be in the morning...” Aziraphale was still gazing up at Crowley, absolutely adoring the peaceful look on his face. 

“I suppose we could just stay here,” Crowley said softly, smiling at the realization. Even if he knew it wasn’t practical and wouldn’t happen, just the thought that they _could_ was a pleasant one. “We could stay here for the rest of eternity if we really wanted to.”

“Certainly are plenty of ways to stay entertained,” Aziraphale said suggestively, one hand sliding down to play with the hem of Crowley’s shirt. 

Crowley’s smile evolved into a smirk- he was much quicker on the uptake this time. “Want to break in the marriage bed, angel?”

Aziraphale’s only answer was his warms lips against Crowley’s, and his hand continuing down the front of Crowley’s pants. That was all the prompting that was needed for them to shed their clothing and make love, just as they’d done countless times before. 

They both knew they would get up eventually. But in that moment, staying there sounded downright heavenly to Aziraphale. Eternity had never sounded so appealing to him than it did just then, when he could spend it lavishing his demon with love and feeling it reciprocated in kind. He’d always assumed eternity would wind up being The Sound of Music on repeat at best, and roasting in hellfire at worst. If all they ever did was lie together in bed just like this, Aziraphale thought that he could handle it, so long as Crowley was there. And finally, _finally,_ that was his reality. The rest of eternity with his Crowley. 

The rest of their lives, together. 

“We really do, don’t we?” Aziraphale asked some time later when they had finally cleaned themselves up and were once again happily curled together. 

“What’s that?”

“What Anathema said. We deserve this. Each other.”

Crowley nodded, yawning widely. As much as he didn’t want the night to end, he found sleep was calling his name, and now he was good and fucked-out, his body felt an odd kinship with a limp noodle. Besides, just because _tonight_ was ending, what was to prevent them from doing this again? Not a thing. They had that freedom. But at the moment, it was all he could do to summon up an answer. 

“You’re damn right we do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, I'm so used to writing angst, this is a very weird fic for me! I don't have a romantic bone in my body, so a lot of this was sort based on my sister's wedding. The song that they danced to was I'm Yours by Jason Mraz, I absolutely adore it. Don't worry, I don't think any of the remaining chapters are gonna be quite as long as this one. There's three more lined up after this, unless anyone has anything they'd really like to see happening, in which case, lemme know!  
> Kudos are appreciated, comments are read over and over when I'm feeling bad about myself!  
> Feel free to shoot me a request over [here!](https://the-sinnamon-roll-writes.tumblr.com/)


	7. Alpha Centauri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honeymoon time! Okay, I should've had this up about two weeks ago, but back then I was still caring about my grades. I've since accepted that I am simply a dumbass, so this is getting posted now instead. Also, please forgive my blatant disregard for the laws of physics. I'm not an astrophysicist, and thinking too hard about space hurts my brain.

“Right, well, my Enochian is a bit rusty so I can’t remember what I was originally called way back then, but I know the humans call it Proxima Centauri b. It was the first planet we made in that system, that’d probably be the best place to start and go from there. Really, you have a fantastic view of the system from right there, I mean there’s no light pollution and like, a million constellations you can’t see from here that I could probably spend weeks just showing you-”

“Breathe, dear!” Aziraphale laughed at Crowley’s infectious enthusiasm. He couldn’t think of a time he’d ever seen his demon so excited; it was honestly one of the most endearing things that he’d ever seen. Although strictly speaking he didn’t _need_ to breathe, it made communication much easier, and taking a deep breaths helped them calm down just as much as it helped humans. While he desperately wanted to keep Crowley excited about this (although he had a feeling that there was very little that would dampen his spirits), he also knew that it was generally best to keep one’s head when traveling to avoid burning out before reaching the destination. But then again, when Crowley was in a mood, there really wasn't anything to be done to help him focus. All the angel could do now was try and steer him in whatever productive way he could. 

As always, that was easier said than done. And on the eve of their departure, Crowley didn’t sleep at all. As much as he’d always wanted to, Crowley had never really considered going back to space a possibility for him. Mostly because he had never had anyone to go with. Space was beautiful, but it was also vast. When he’d still been in Her good graces and stationed there to make the cosmos, he hadn’t been alone. Sure, he’d worked mostly by himself, but there were still plenty of angel’s passing by to catch a glimpse of his work. And of course, She was always there with him, Her love a constant that filled him and kept him warm. 

“Ready to go?”

“Checklist first, dear,” Aziraphale reminded primly. “Taken care of the Juniors?”

“Their cages are clean, they’ve got fresh water, and I fed them last night. List of instructions for the humans are on the fronts of both their terrariums.”

“Taken care of the plants?”

“Yup.”

“Double checked that we’ve everything we need packed?”

“Did that last tonight too. We can just miracle anything that we might’ve forgotten anyways, whys that on the list?”

“Covered up the Bentley?”

“Of course-”

“Turned off all the lights?”

“Yes-”

“Shut off the oven?”

“Now you’re just making things up!”

Aziraphale laughed when Crowley caught his sleeve and tugged impatiently. 

Their home was isolated enough that, as they were leaving in the dead of night, they felt confident enough that they could simply fly out from there without raising any alarms. 

Crowley took off first, speeding ahead of him eagerly, and Aziraphale could just make out the delighted _'whoop!'_ that escaped him when they exited the atmosphere. It was an odd feeling, being in space after spending so much time on Earth; breathing, for one, was no longer an option. Not that they had to, it was just a habit that both Crowley and Aziraphale had fallen into to keep humans from getting too uncomfortable around them. And it was _cold_. For a moment, Aziraphale glanced at his mostly-ectothermic partner in concern, but Crowley seemed to be doing okay. He was bundled up in multiple layers, and honestly looked to be running totally on pure exhilaration alone. It was amazing what that demon could do through sheer force of will. 

With a smile, Aziraphale glided over and caught Crowley’s hand. His skin was already cool to the touch, but his grin gave Aziraphale the impression he hadn’t even noticed. 

“Dear-” the angel had to stop when they both dissolved into a fit of giggles- his voice was so distorted out here it was ridiculous. Sound in space was funny, even for celestial beings. In London, there was noise around the clock- out here was quiet, even to their sensitive ears, the only thing managing to come through were the laughs and voices of one another. And that was only possible with a little help from some magic. “Perhaps- perhaps we should speed this along a bit,” he tried again, still chuckling. “It is awfully cold out here for you.”

“It’s fine,” Crowley assured, despite the shiver that ran through him. “Just hold my hand. You always keep me warm. You’re like a space heater, but, y’know... better.”

An eye roll/blush combo seemed the closest thing to being the correct response to that, so that’s what Aziraphale did. He was right, of course- Aziraphale kept Crowley warm in the cold just as much as Crowley kept him cool in the heat. Equilibrium. If ever there was a word to sum up their relationship, that would be it. 

“You’re sure? We could just...” Aziraphale mimed snapping his fingers and made a small _'poof'_  
sound. 

“Nah. Not yet, at least. It’s been a while since I’ve flown, I want to stretch my wings a bit. Let’s get a lightyear or so out, then see how we feel?” He left it hanging as a question, and Aziraphale knew full well that if he pushed the matter, Crowley would give in and simply teleport. But the demon had a point- it had been several centuries song Aziraphale had actually flown as well, and it did feel nice to be using his wings. 

“Alright, then,” Aziraphale said, squeezing Crowley’s hand. “Lead the way, love.”

As they started to resume flying, Aziraphale allowed his eyes to wander around in wonder. He’d never spent much time in space, and he was starting to kick himself for it. Had he been alone, it might’ve been eerie, but the comforting weight of Crowley’s hand was soft and reassuring, letting him relax and take everything in with the appreciation is deserved. Even though they were moving through the vast expanse at impossible speeds, the angel still marveled at the way the stars glimmered and seemed to change color as they saw them from different distances, and at the breathtaking vibrancy of the gas giants up close. At his side, Crowley was smiling at every soft gasp that escaped Aziraphale’s lips. Occasionally he would slow them down just enough to point things out- 

“That there was one of the first nebulas I made.” “Gabe and I actually got in a contest over who could create a star system the fastest. I won with that one way over there.” “I remember God taking my hand and teaching me what I was going to do right over there.”

Aziraphale took it all in eagerly, laughing when it was appropriate, occasionally squeezing Crowley’s hand if he seemed to be getting too caught up in memories.

By the time they’d reached the edge of the solar system, it was becoming painfully apparent just how out of shape they were. Not using their wings for hundreds of years then suddenly going on a 4.4 lightyear trip through the cosmos was proving to be a bit much for them both. 

“Think... we should... just snap there now?” Aziraphale finally asked, suggesting what was on both their minds. Crowley nodded breathlessly, snapped his fingers, and just like that, they were at their first destination. 

The angel took a moment to re-orient himself; there was no up or down when one was floating in zero-gravity, and to suddenly have to actually support your weight again was somewhat jarring. Luckily Crowley was there to steady him until he was stable enough to look up and gasp at the sky above them. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he was able to look up and not have his view obscured by light pollution. And even back then, before electricity became mainstream, the view of the sky on Earth couldn’t compare to what he was seeing now. 

The sky here was a rich purple with pale pink swirling in like watercolor the on the horizon. Stars twinkled, staining the bold colors with countless bright white lights. There were so many of them that they lit up the world around them, leaving practically no point for artificial lights of any sort. 

While Aziraphale stared up at the sky, Crowley became uncomfortably aware that he couldn’t stop shivering. Deciding to allow his husband a few minutes to take it all in, Crowley went about setting up a place to rest, starting with a lazy miracle to make a fire. He didn’t have anything to burn, and the atmosphere of the planet wasn’t even suited for flames of any sort. The concentration of oxygen in the air was higher than that on Earth- the minute he snapped his fingers, realistically the whole area should’ve exploded. But Crowley wasn’t aware of that fact, and thought that the fire should behave just as any normal campfire would, and so it did, physics be damned. Careful not to break Aziraphale’s reverie, Crowley walked him closer to the fire until they could both start absorbing its delightful warmth. 

“No moons?” Aziraphale finally asked. 

“Er- yeah, we forgot about that. Was still relatively new to the job when Uriel and I were making this. I think otherwise it turned out okay though.”

“ _Okay?_ Crowley, this is stunning work! It doesn’t need a moon. The stars, they’re just...” Aziraphale couldn’t think of a word to finish his sentence, his eyes inadvertently drifting from Crowley’s face back upwards again. “So many of these I don’t recognize. Could you tell me some of their names?”

Smiling widely, Crowley nodded and dropped down, tugging Aziraphale with him until they were both flat on their backs. Aziraphale had turned to lay perpendicular to Crowley and rested his head on his demon’s stomach. He kept his fingers twined with one of Crowley’s hands while the other one pointed at various points in the sky. He didn’t need to see Crowley’s face to know that the smile there would be just as bright as any star in the sky- he could hear it in his voice alone. 

“Do you have a favorite?” Aziraphale asked when Crowley started trailing off wistfully.

“A favorite star?” Crowley’s lips pursed and he scrutinized the sky closely. “Mm. I suppose... that one.”

“That’s not one we can see from our solar system,” Aziraphale said, prompting Crowley to continue. 

“Its name is-” Crowley said the Enochian name, which roughly translated to ‘Eternal Little Light’ in English. 

“Why is it your favorite?” 

If Aziraphale has been looking at Crowley, he would’ve seen a small smile, lost in nostalgia as he gazed upwards. “Was the first thing I ever made. She helped me with it- it was the only one I actually made _with_ Her. She showed me how to do a lot, and She watched over most of my earlier days, but that’s the only one out there with a bit of both of us in it.”

“And why was it named that?”

“Well, She used to called me Her Little Lightmaker. Lucifer may have been the Morningstar, and he may have shone brighter than all of us, but I helped to make the stars- helped make him shine. I didn’t realize that stars could die- death still wasn’t a thing back then. Everything was just eternal. So, She decided we should call it Eternal Little Light, after the angel that had helped Her create it. I’d thought it meant... I don’t know. I was young, and stupid then, thought it meant I could never Fall from Her Grace. That She loved me. A part of me still wonders if She ever thinks about that. Maybe She remembers me whenever She happens to see it.”

Aziraphale could understand that. He could still see that creative light in Crowley. It had never gone out, just been... redirected. Aziraphale squeezed his hand sympathetically, unsure of the appropriate way to respond to that was. Crowley rarely spoke in detail about what he remembered from before his Fall. His demon had mentioned the Fall itself, how horrifying and traumatic it felt, but never Heaven. Not who he was- all Aziraphale even knew was that he helped with Creation. Crowley had stopped talking though, and Aziraphale had the feeling that he was meant to say something. “Crowley, dear, I don’t think She stopped loving you.”

“She kicked me-” Crowley immediately tried to protest, but Aziraphale wouldn’t let him. 

“She needed someone on Earth for Her plan... I mean, Her _Plan_ , that is. I think She knew you, and knew you would come to want to protect it. So... She did what She knew would get you down here.”

“She could’ve just stationed me here, just like she did to you!” Crowley said indignantly. 

“You liked Heaven. You bonded with the other angels more than I ever did. You must’ve,” Aziraphale added slowly but reasonably. “Because I never made friends with any angels up there. If you’d stayed there, with your friends and family, you wouldn’t have turned your back on them like you did with Hell. If you’d had ties to Heaven or Hell, then you wouldn’t have fought to save Earth.”

Crowley seemed hesitant to agree, but he also couldn’t think of an argument. Absently, he reached down with the hand that wasn’t holding Aziraphale’s and started petting his angel’s hair back. Aziraphale didn’t get the impression that he was upset- Crowley was just musing over the new point of view Aziraphale had just introduced him to. He couldn’t deny it- if that really was the Almighty’s plan, then it was cruel to Crowley. Putting him through that hardship... Aziraphale just knew that there had to be a reason beyond asking questions though. Of course, Aziraphale knew that loving demons wasn’t a sin- he did, and he hadn’t Fallen. Was it really so hard to imagine that God, in Her omnipresent love, would still care for Her Fallen children? Aziraphale certainly didn’t think so. 

Neither of them really noticed the relaxed silence they’d lapsed into, both content to look up at the cosmos, deep in thought and wonder. 

“I guess you haven’t Fallen,” Crowley said finally, voicing Aziraphale’s thoughts. “That means that a Heavenly being is allowed to love an Infernal one. I suppose it makes sense that God and all Her... Her-ness could love one too. She’s all about that stuff lately, right?”

“She always has been, I think. The concept of love has developed over the years, and ways of showing that love... well, perhaps it’s been a learning process for Her as well.” Aziraphale couldn’t help the contented hum that escaped when he felt fingernails gently card through his hair, scratching down his scalp. It was getting harder not to fall asleep like this. He didn’t need it, but living with Crowley had made Aziraphale come to appreciate sleep. And he had just flown an awfully long way- it was natural that he should be tired. It was then that he noticed a sudden chill rack through Crowley’s body, taking them both by surprise. Once again, Crowley scooted closer to the fire- had he been human, he likely would’ve been at risk of burning himself. Apparently a part of being a demon, however, meant that the fire knew better. 

“Go ahead and rest.” Of course Crowley would read him like a book. He always did. “Been a long day. We can pick this up tomorrow.”

As appealing as that sounded, Aziraphale found that closing his eyes- and no longer being able to gaze at this new night sky- was hard to do. Especially when he felt another shiver rush down Crowley’s spine. Suddenly feeling guilty for not registering how chilly it had gotten, Ariraphale quickly shifted, lifting his head from Crowley’s stomach and moving to rest it on his chest instead. Now they were side-by-side, Crowley happily sandwiched between the warm fire and his warm angel. The demon hummed in appreciation when Aziraphale brought his wings back out and rested one of them across Crowley’s front like a blanket. “Is this better, dearest?”

“Much. You’ve got some ruffled feathers, angel,” Crowley said, sounding dryly amused. “Want me to...?”

Aziraphale beamed and wiggled the wing resting on Crowley’s lap in response. His demon immediately set about combing through the large white feathers, carefully straightening and smoothing them. 

“Do any of these stars or constellations have stories?” Aziraphale asked when Crowley started working. “I mean, humans have come up with so many stories about the stars and the cosmos- did you have anything like that when you were creating them?”

“Most of them do, yeah,” Crowley answered quietly, not ceasing his motherly tending to Aziraphale’s wings. “Was part of how most of us entertained ourselves, by coming up with stories about their shapes. Really, we were more like humans than most of us cared to admit, especially in the beginning.”

“Would you tell me some of them?”

Crowley was smiling again, absolutely delighted that Aziraphale was taking such an interest. “Of course, angel.”

Normally it was Crowley who would listen to Aziraphale’s voice as he recounted stories that Crowley pretended not to be interested in. Now it was Aziraphale clinging to every word Crowley offered with rapt attention. It was rare that Crowley told stories like this, and it was becoming apparent that he had a knack for it. Aziraphale soon found himself wondering how it was that angels had come up with such creative and fantastical stories. The angels he knew were hardly Shakespearean in their story-telling talents. Then again, it was a very different Heaven that Crowley was remembering now- a Heaven that had _Crowley's_ imagination on its payroll. If he was capable of making entire galaxies with his fellow angels, Aziraphale had no doubt that Crowley was capable of inspiring some storytelling among them. 

Those thoughts- thoughts of the old Heaven, of Crowley, and of lovely stories- combined with the careful massaging of fingers on his pleasantly sore wing was hypnotizing. Words weaved tales, the voice soft and soothing in a way it only ever was for Aziraphale. Soon it all surrounded him in a soft haze that reminded him of the few moments he could remember spending in Her presence- it was nothing short of divine. 

Wing-care wasn’t exactly a small job- it was nothing to be sneezed at, and Crowley would be damned again if he accidentally did something to mistreat his angel’s stunningly radiant wings. So he took his time, giving attention to every feather he could get his hands on while he spoke. After all, he really have no shortage of time to make sure the job was done perfectly. The only time he took his hands off of Aziraphale was when he finished the story of one constellation and moved to point out the next one. 

Eventually, Crowley felt his voice starting grow hoarse after hours of recounting his favorite stories. He had finished with Aziraphale’s wing, but given that he couldn’t reach the other one, simply chose to keep on petting it fondly. He wasn’t even sure if Aziraphale was still paying attention to his ramblings, and was suddenly struck with a rather foolish feeling for not thinking to see if he’d been talking to himself the entire time. 

“Er- you still awake, ang- oh!" Crowley’s look of surprised softened instantly when he saw the expression Aziraphale’s face. It was one he had seen multiple times there before. His angel was actually the first one to experience it in their relationship- it had alarmed him that first time, when he hadn’t known much about sub space. All he’d known was that they had been enjoying a relaxed evening together, lying down and just gently touching each other when he’d tried to ask Aziraphale a question, only to find his angel seemingly unable to answer. That time, Crowley had rather ruined when he’d flown into a panic and inadvertently thrown his angel into a drop. (Luckily, that involved feelings that Crowley was a little more familiar with, and he was able to redeem himself a little and help Aziraphale through it.) It had certainly been a learning experience for him. Aziraphale, who had lived his life in a far more peaceful pace than Crowley, had a bit more understanding about it that he was then able to impart upon the demon. 

It had been new. Nothing in his old life had ever been so calm and blissful and safe enough for him to experience it anywhere. Only after he and Aziraphale had finally come together had it become something he’d experienced. 

“Oh, angel.” Crowley’s hands moved from Aziraphale’s wing to his angel’s hair and gently ran his nails along his scalp through the soft blond locks. 

“Mm?” The noise was small, almost inaudible, like the thought of projecting was ludicrous. Which, judging by the look of peaceful euphoria on Aziraphale’s face, was most likely the case. 

“‘S okay, love. Just wasn’t expecting this, that’s all. It’s alright. I’m here, and you’re safe,” Crowley promised gently, resuming his tender administrations and relishing in the contented purr it got. “You’re so beautiful, angel. It’s amazing, how perfect you are. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

It didn’t really matter that he was speaking- by now, Ariraphale could only hear him through his comfortable trance, and putting forth any sort of effort to respond would shatter that. A few small miracles, and one or two weak protests that were quickly soothed and amended, and Crowley was resting on a cushy travel mattress, leaning up against something soft (he hadn’t really paid any attention to what it was that he’d summoned, only knowing that he wanted something soft- when he looked the next day, he would find that he’d summoned an entire sofa. He was rather miffed with himself that he hadn’t taken the time to arrange them up on it instead of remaining on the ground, but Aziraphale had simply laughed it off and insisted that moving any more than they had would’ve ruined the calm) with Aziraphale gently maneuvered in between his legs. His angel’s head was on his lap, face tipped towards Crowley’s thigh. 

After some time- Crowley wasn’t sure how long, the seconds and minutes and hours had started to blend together- Aziraphale’s eyes had finally slide shut as he dozed off into a deep, comfortable sleep. 

Crowley had always privately thought that the stars would be his greatest accomplishment. His _Starry Night,_ his _Mona Lisa,_ His crown jewel. Sure, his work on the M-25 had been quite the achievement, and he was still rather proud of the whole phone-lines thing he’d pulled years ago, but those really couldn’t compare to creating entire solar systems. 

But now, looking at Aziraphale, at his beautiful, soft angel, he realized that that absolutely wasn’t the case. _This_ was it. Earning the right to see Aziraphale like this, earning his trust and affection so completely was by far the best thing he had ever done, or would ever do in his long life. Aziraphale was a masterpiece, and he was every bit as much Crowley’s as Crowley was his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters to go! Kudos are adored, comments are cherished :)  
> Also, my inbox is always open for requests right here! It's been a bit since I've posted any of my recent things there, but that's just me being lazy. Rest assured, I do keep an eye out for messages there though.


	8. Radiant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's plants, and the side effects of a demon and an angel living together!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes! Okay so this took so long because between the last two chapters of this story, and the jillion other WIPs I have, I’ve written around 62277 words since my last update. Also,this bitch just flat-out refused to be written. I kinda fucked up with this one here folks. It should’ve been earlier in the story. It was originally one of the first chapters I wrote, but then I got super into writing the proposal and wedding and I straight up forgot to include this. So if it reads like it’s earlier on in their relationship than they’re at in previous chapters, that’s why. It’s not great, but I said nine chapters, so I wrote nine chapters. I’m sorry :(

Crowley had surprised Aziraphale when he had begun to bring plants inside, and even more so when the plants thrived. 

(“Well, now we absolutely have to find someone to house-sit! We can’t just leave your plants unattended!” Aziraphale had insisted before their trip. 

“Oh no,” Crowley had shot back firmly. “No one else could take care of them properly. I will be the only one handling my plants, angel.”) 

They had a garden outside that the demon worked incredibly hard to maintain, and under his care, it had grown into the envy of every person who passed their little cottage. Several folks had stopped on multiple occasions when they caught Crowley working to ask him how he did it. No one took him seriously when he explained that the trick, in addition to maintaining proper soil conditions, regular watering, and careful shade management, was just to scare the absolute shit out of them. 

The angel hadn’t complained, of course. He’d been vaguely aware of Crowley’s hobby before, he’d just never quite realized the extent to which it was taken. It had been something of an adventure, watching Crowley gather what he called ‘rescue plants’ from nurseries and whip them back into shape. They grew slowly, as most things tended to do, but under his demons attentive scrutiny over the years, they flourished into some of the most verdant greenery Aziraphale had ever seen. 

“What’s your trick anyway?” Aziraphale finally asked one day when he had looked around and realized that Crowley had somehow created a botanical garden that put any other that he had ever seen to shame. It was fascinating to him, seeing his demon fuss over his plants. The overly ornate chair that Crowley had insisted on keeping was more comfortable than Aziraphale had expected, and he’d grown to enjoy just sitting down and watching Crowley go about trimming and watering and just generally caring for his greenery. 

“Oh, you know, a little tender loving care and whatnot,” Crowley answered with a bit of a smirk that suggested there was more to it than that. No need for his angel to know that he would occasionally take his aggressions out on plant-life when he wasn’t around. It was better than taking it out on humans, right? That could get so _messy_. In truth, Crowley had never much had the stomach to do anything truly harmful to humans- after all, they had never done anything to him to warrant his wrath. Much less risky to simply provoke them a little here and there then let them do the worst of the harm themselves. 

“I see. And what made you choose to grow plants?” Now seemed as good a time as any to find that out. The things Crowley kept continually struck Aziraphale as odd, although as time progressed, he did come to learn that there was usually a reason. When asked about the eagle statue from the church, his demon had eagerly replied that not many demons got to say they’d blown up a church before, and that was the one thing whole enough to warrant being a keepsake. The Mona Lisa sketch he had from Da Vinci clearly had some sentimental value- Aziraphale had a feeling it was to Crowley what his signed Wilde editions were to himself. He’d yet to ask Crowley about the throne. 

“Well, the Juniors like the warmer conditions the plants need to be kept in,” Crowley said casually. “And it’s good for them to have places to climb in when we let them out. Stimulating, or whatever.”

“I seem to recall you having plants in your flat before you got Tonya and Crawly. Didn’t you say you’d started gardening back in the seventies?”

“You remember that?” Crowley asked, looking surprised. He’d been sure that that was one tidbit of information he had thrown out drunkenly one night when they were still moonlighting as nanny and gardener. It didn’t seem the sort of thing a normal person would consider worthy of remembering. But of course, Aziraphale was hardly a normal person, and he had by far the most extensive memory Crowley had ever encountered. 

“Dear, I remember most everything you’ve told me about yourself. You’re quite a fascinating creature, you know.”

Crowley squinted at Aziraphale suspiciously. “You make it sound like I’m some specimen you keep around to study. The freak demon?”

“You’re not a freak!” Aziraphale bristled immediately, offended on Crowley’s behalf. “I meant it in the best of ways. I love hearing you talk about yourself.”

“Alright...”

“And I would love to know: why plants?” 

Although he would sometimes complain about it, Crowley actually enjoyed Aziraphale’s curious nature. His desire to learn and grow, even in the most simplest of ways, really set him apart from the other assholes who inhabited the kingdom beyond the pearly gates, and he would never dream of trying to diminish that. 

“I dunno, I just like them. I suppose... well, they remind me of the Garden.”

“I should hope so, dear. Gardens are generally where plants are found-”

“No, _the_ Garden. Where we first met. Remember? You made quite the first impression, angel.”

“Oh, really?” Aziraphale asked, looking surprised. “I rather thought I’d made a bit of a mess of it. I seem to recall being a bit of a nervous wreck.”

“You were different than the rest. Any other angel likely would’ve tried to smite me on the spot. Would’ve regretted it, of course,” he added with a grin that made Aziraphale snort, “but would’ve tried nonetheless. But you didn’t. And then there was the sword.”

“The sword? Why was that important?” Nothing Crowley was saying quite made sense to the angel. Just because he hadn’t attacked Crowley right away didn’t mean that they hadn’t had their fights, and it certainly wasn’t a good reason to like someone right off the bat. He’d never really thought about his differences with other angels- as a general rule, they were all meant to be uniform, working towards the same goal, approaching problems with a hive mind. The more he considered it, the more he began to understand Crowley’s point in that regard. He wasn’t fierce like the others, and he certainly didn’t enjoy fighting like they seemed to.

“You gave it away,” Crowley explained patiently. “You gave them a chance when no one else did. That was the first act of empathy I’d ever seen from anyone, divine or otherwise. It set you apart even more than the lack of smiting did.”

“Crowley?”

“Hm?”

“I-” Aziraphale paused, and Crowley stopped to look over at him, but didn’t press; his angel would get there in time. “Well, speaking of setting apart- I never asked you this, but at the Ark... were you the one who...?”

Crowley nodded before Aziraphale could finish his question. “Had to, didn’t I? If it’s what She wanted, I could hardly just let it happen, right? ‘Sides, all those kids were innocent- needed them to get old to tempt them over to our side. Do you _know_ the kind of chaos kids can cause? They’re like little demons themselves. And honestly, could you imagine the inbreeding that would’ve happened there with just one family to repopulate the Middle East? Half the younger generations would’ve died of all sorts of nasty genetic defects. It was in Hell’s best interest all around to keep a few extra little waifs running around.”

It was Aziraphale’s turn to nod slowly as Crowley babbled and he took in information that he really already knew. After all, he knew that no angels had dared to help, and Noah and his family were far too fearful of God’s wrath to risk sneaking any other humans onto the Ark. He had no doubt that Crowley had worked that explanation out in his head to tell his higher ups as he was in the midst of saving children from the Flood. The demon made some fair points too, and if Aziraphale didn’t already know that he had a soft spot for children- little mayhem makers that they were- he might’ve believed it. 

Aziraphale smiled at him, positively radiating joy. At one point, Crowley might’ve rolled his eyes, but now the knowledge that he was responsible for the beam that filled him with a lovely warmth that was present whenever his angel did something sweet. And he could die happy knowing that _he_ was the one who had caused that smile. 

It was only then that Crowley realized that Aziraphale actually _was_ radiating joy- his angel was glowing. His heavenly power was rolling out, his emotions unable to be contained by his basic human vessel. It happened to both of them on occasion, although they’d always needed to be careful about it. Too much exposure to celestial or demonic energy could be harmful to Crowley or Aziraphale, respectively. 

But to Crowley’s surprise, Aziraphale’s light wasn’t causing the telltale prickle across his body- the inevitable precursor to an eventual sunburn-esque ache- that it used to. It didn’t necessarily look any different. It was still soft and familiar and undeniably Aziraphale. It just didn’t hurt. 

Almost like it was less holy. 

Crowley’s stomach dropped at the thought of Aziraphale Falling from Grace. They had been together for years; why now? “Angel, are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine- oh dear, I didn’t notice I was glowing. I’m so sorry, was it too much?” 

“Er- no. It didn’t hurt at all. I mean, there was some holiness,” he added at Aziraphale’s look of alarm, “but it didn’t affect me like it usually does. Like it was muted or something.”

“Muted? You don’t think...?” Aziraphale looked anxious, but surprisingly, no more so than when he thought a customer was about to buy a book. Admittedly, Falling had lost much of its intimidation factor since he’d gotten someone to catch him if it happened. 

“No,” Crowley said immediately and far too quickly. “No, that wouldn’t make any sense. We haven’t done anything new or- or different that would cause you to Fall.”

“Quite right. I mean, we were wedded-”

“But that was ages ago. No point in punishing us for it _now.”_

The angel found he appreciated the use of the word ‘us’ in this particular context. Any punishment for Aziraphale was a punishment for Crowley. Not that the angel hadn’t already known that; it was just nice to hear it every now and again. They both fell into silence then, quietly considering what it might mean. At some point, Crowley had made his way over and was sitting on the desk in front of Aziraphale, who in turn was still seated on the throne. 

“I believe I have an idea,” Aziraphale said suddenly. “Would you mind if I tried blessing you?”

“Blessing me?” Crowley repeated incredulously. “What, and give me to flu for the next few days?”

(It wasn’t actually the flu, but a demon being blessed by an angel yielded results not unlike stomach-flu symptoms. They’d found that out the hard way when Crowley had sneezed when Aziraphale had accidentally dropped a book and sent dust flying everywhere. Of course, basic manners had the angel saying an instinctive “God bless you!” to the demon that immediately prompted a bout of vomiting and a fever that lasted around a week.)

“I don’t believe that will be the case. Besides, the worst case scenario would be my having to dote on you a little extra for some time. And I happen to know that you enjoy my doting, so don’t try to deny it!”

Of course, Crowley’s first instinct was to deny it- demons don’t like being coddled- but Aziraphale knew him too well for that to work. 

“Alright, angel, fine. Bless me.”

Aziraphale smiled at the trust Crowley was placing in him before clearing his throat and saying, “God bless you, Crowley.”

Nothing. Crowley blinked, looking down at his hands like they might somehow hold an answer. Even if Aziraphale was losing his connection to Heaven, saying ‘God bless you’ to a demon should’ve made Crowley feel _something._ Even when ordinary people said it, Crowley would feel a slight pinch to his gut, like his stomach was receiving a zap of static electricity. “Wha- why don’t I-”

“I don’t think it’s me, Crowley. Or rather, I don’t think it’s just me. I think we’re both changing. Becoming acclimated to each other’s opposing energies, as it were.”

“What, like building up a tolerance? Like if you snort enough mercury and eventually you’ll become immune?”

“Well, that’s not even- you can’t- did you say _snort?!”_

“So you think you’re getting used to demonic essences as well?”

Aziraphale frowned. He wasn’t sure he was quite ready to move past Crowley’s ideas of what one does with mercury, but he did have a point to make. “I noticed something the other day when you were tempting those young ladies- the influence you exerted over them didn’t feel quite so... tingly. At first I thought you were simply being lazy, but now I wonder if it wasn’t something else.”

“The girls I got to hold up traffic on Oxford street for three hours?”

“Yes. Oh, don’t smile, you fiend,” Azirphale scolded, despite the smile on his own face. After his initial mandatory disapproval, he had to admit, it had been rather humorous. An ingenious manipulation of envy, pink socks, and a witless pigeon.

“So what exactly do you think it means?”

Aziraphale paused, a fond smile growing on his face as he studied his husband closely. “I think it means that there’s one less thing we need to be careful of. And,” he added, starting to glow just a little brighter and allowing a bit of the Heavenly love he usually kept under wraps to seep out, “it means I can love you with even more of my being.”

Crowley had been a demon for a long time. There were things about being an angel that he remembered; mostly what he did, and what Heaven was like. But he had forgotten how it used to _feel_. Once upon a time, it really had been a place of Love with a capital L. That had changed after the war, and Crowley had just assumed that, since She had vanished, the Love was just gone. 

Now, looking at his angel, it became apparent to Crowley that he’d been ridiculous in thinking so. Clearly it had all been poured into Aziraphale. 

And now it was all being directed at _him._

It was dizzying, being the recipient of such unbridled affection. Crowley wished he could reciprocate, make Aziraphale feel half as loved as he felt now, but he honestly had no idea how. As a demon, he’d spent the last several millennia hiding and denying every instance of love he encountered. As such, he was still woefully incompetent at consciously expressing his feelings. He simply didn’t have that ability. 

Yet. With someone like Aziraphale at his side, it was only a matter of time. For now, he could only do his best. 

“You’re exquisite, angel. You know that?”

And well, there was really only one right way to respond to that. 

They had long since lost track of how many times they’d kissed, but each time was just as special as the last. Whether it was a kiss shared in the heat of passion or a small peck given over lunch, without fail, it left both of them feeling warm, safe, loved, and just a little breathless. 

This one was no different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this was probably my least favorite chapter. But at least it had some cute dialog!  
> Kudos make my day, comments make my week! If you have a request or just wanna say hi, you can reach me over [here!](https://the-sinnamon-roll-writes.tumblr.com/)


	9. Eden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here we are- the epilogue! Sorry it took so long to get here folks, I hope it turned out okay!

Aziraphale liked to decorate for the holidays. 

Crowley enjoyed learning to cook Aziraphale’s favorite dishes. 

Sometimes on warm summer days, Aziraphale would sit outside and read out loud from a book while Crowley worked in the garden. 

Sometimes on frigid winter nights, they would curl up with one another in front of a fire and watch cheesy movies that Crowley would critique afterwords with all the passion of a hipster critiquing a French indie film. 

They would go for long walks in the autumn, bundled up against the crisp air. 

They would celebrate the first plants that came to life in the spring. 

No matter how many times Crowley needed to be reassured that he was more than just a demon, Aziraphale was there to remind him of all the wonderful things about himself. And no matter how many times Aziraphale needed to be promised that he was nothing short of perfect, Crowley was there with his arms around him to kiss away his insecurities. 

It had taken them a long time to get there- too long, they both agreed. But they got there, and wasn’t that the important thing?

Both of them loathed to call it their own Heaven. The humans who would occasionally come over liked to call it that, and they always had to vehemently correct them. They had both been in Heaven, and the home that they had created was far better than anything they could remember seeing there. It had been filled with warmth, with such a caring energy that made it home, that even Crowley admitted to sensing. With love. That was something that Heaven hadn’t seen in millennia. 

No, this wasn’t Heaven. 

This was their own slice of Eden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this fic was one of the longest things I've ever written. I kinda can't believe it's over, I'm almost a little sad! 
> 
> As always, kudos are appreciated, and comments are cherished :)
> 
> If you'd like to request something, my inbox is always over right over [here!](https://the-sinnamon-roll-writes.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Smooches all around! These freakin' two, man, I can't with them. Expect a couple different Good Omens fics coming up, cause I'm on a kick.
> 
> I'm a slut for comments. Shoot me a message or a request @ https://the-sinnamon-roll-writes.tumblr.com/ !


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